Y 


PRINCETON,    N.    J. 


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BX    9178    .Al    S3    1881 
Scotch    sermons,     1880 


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Shelf. 


SCOTCH   SERMOl^S, 


1880. 


NEW  YORK: 
D.   APPLETON  AND    COMPANY, 

1,  3,  AND  5  BOND   STREET. 

1881. 


TO 

ARTHUR  PENRHYN  STANLEY, 

S;^c  ^tmx  of  SS^fstntinslcr, 

THIS  EDITION 

OF 

SCOTCH    SERMONS 
IS  DEDICATED. 


October,  18S0. 


PEEFAOE. 


This  volume  lias  originated  in  the  wish  to  gather 
together  a  few  specimens  of  a  style  of  teaching  which 
increasingly  prevails  among  the  clergy  of  the  Scottish 
Church. 

It  does  not  claim  to  represent  either  the  full  extent 
of  that  teaching,  or  the  range  of  subjects  on  which  in 
their  public  ministrations  its  authors  are  in  the  habit 
of  discoursing.  It  may,  however,  serve  to  indicate  a 
growing  tendency,  and  to  show  the  direction  in  which 
thought  is  moving.  It  is  the  work  of  those  whose  hope 
for  the  future  lies,  not  in  alterations  of  ecclesiastical 
organization,  but  in  a  profounder  apprehension  of  the 
essential  ideas  of  Christianity ;  and  especially  in  the 
growth,  within  the  Church,  of  such  a  method  of  present- 
ing them  as  shall  show  that  they  are  equally  adapted  to 
the  needs  of  humanity,  and  in  harmony  with  the  results 
of  critical  and  scientific  research. 

Some  of  the  Sermons  were  preached  exactly  as  they 


6  PREFACE. 

now  aj)pear,  and  are  no  more  than  samples  of  poj)ular 
religious  teaching.  Others  have  been  written  expressly 
for  the  volume,  or  have  been  considerably  enlarged  after 
having  been  delivered  from  the  pulpit.  The  writers  are 
all  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  Scotland. 

Should  this  volume  accomplish  its  aim,  it  may  be 
followed  by  another  series. 

The  Editor. 
Christmas^  1S79. 


I     liw.      _.,    ,      I 


:f  PEiirci^K-r 


VI 


\^HJ20L0QiG:'r,   / 


^^. 


-^  ^  _^-rr 


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CONTENTS 


I.— CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY 

By  the  Very  Rer.  John   Cairo,  D.  D.,  Trincipal  of  the 
University  of  Glasgow. 


PACK 
11 


II.— UNIOIT  WITH  GOD  .... 

By  the  Very  Rev.  John  Caird,  D.  D.,  Principal  of  the 
University  of  Glasgow. 


26 


III.— HOMESPUN"   RELIGION"       . 

By  the  Rev.  John  Ccnningham,  D.  D.,  Crieff. 


41 


IV.— THE  RELIGION   OF  LOVE 

By  the  Rev.  John  Cunningham,  D.  D.,  Crieff. 


53 


v.— LAW   AND   MIRACLE         ....        06 
By  the  Rev.  D.  J.  Ferguson,  B.  D.,  Strathblanc. 

VI.— THE  VISION   OF  GOD        ....        80 
By  the  Rev.  D.  J.  Ferguson,  B.  D.,  Strathblane. 

VII.— CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE  .  .        94 

By   the   Rev.  William    Knight,   LL.  D.,  Professor   of 
Moral  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  St.  Andrews. 


3  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

VIIL— THE  CONTINUITY  AND  DEVELOPMENT   OF 

RELIGION Ill 

By  the   Rev.   William    Knight,   LL.  D.,   Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  St.  Andrews. 

IX.— THE  LAW   OF  MORAL  CONTINUITY  .  .       128 

By  the  Rev.  William  Mackintosh,  D.  D.,  Buchanan. 

X.— THE  RENOVATING  POWER    OF  CHRISTIAN- 
ITY   146 

By  the  Rev.  William  Mackintosh,  D.  D.,  Buchanan. 

XI.— AUTHORITY 173 

By  the  Rev.  William  Leckie  M'Farlan,  Lcnzie. 

Xn.— THE  THINGS  WHICH  CAN  NOT  BE  SHAKEN       194 
By  the  Rev.  William  Leckie  M'Farlan,  Lenzie. 

XIII.— THE  SUCCESSORS   OF    THE    GREAT    PHYSI- 
CIAN          215 

By  the  Rev.  Allan  Menzies,  B.  D.,  Abernyte. 

XIV.— THE   CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD.  .  .      227 

By  the  Rev.  Allan  Menzies,  B.  D.,  Abernyte. 

XV.— THE  ASSEMBLING  OF  OURSELVES  TOGETHER      236 
By  the  Rev.  James  Nicoll,  Murroes. 

XVL— INDIVIDUALISM   AND   THE   CHURCH  .      247 

By  the  Rev.  Thomas  Rain,  M.  A.,  Hutton. 

XVII.— THE   PHARISEE   AND   THE   PUBLICAN  .      267 

By  the  Rev.  Thomas  Rain,  M.  A.,  Hutton, 


CONTENTS. 


PAGR 


XVIIL— ETERNAL  LIFE 281 

By  the  Rev.  Adam  Semple,  B.  D.,  Iluntly. 

XIX.-RELIGIOIT— THEOLOGY-ECCLESIASTICISM        291 
By  the  Rev.  John  Stevenson,  Glamis. 

XX.— UNITY 306 

By  the  Rev.  Patrick  Stevenson,  Inverarity. 

XXL— ETERNAL  LIFE 315 

By  the  Rev.  Patrick  Stevenson,  Inverarity. 

XXIL— CHRIST'S   AUTHORITY    .  .  .  .322 

By  the  Rev.  Robert  Herbert  Story,  D.  D.,  Rosneath. 

XXIIL— CHRISTIAN  RIGHTEOUSNESS  .  .  .334 

By  the  Rev.  Robert  Herbert  Story,  D.  D.,  Rosneath. 


HBO 


SCOTCH    SERMONS. 


I. 

COEPOKATE  IMMORTALITY. 

BY   THE   VERY   REV.    JOHN    CAIRO,  D.  D.,  PRINCIPAL   OF   THE   TNIVEESITY 

OF   GLASGOW. 

"  These  all,  having  obtained  a  good  report  through  faith,  received 
not  the  promise :  God  having  provided  some  better  thing  for  us, 
that  they  without  us  should  not  be  made  perfect."— Heb.  xi,  39,  40. 

There  is  something  at  once  of  exultation  and  of  sad- 
ness in  the  words  with  which  the  writer  of  this  book  closes 
his  recapitulation  of  the  glorious  roll  of  the  saints  and  mar- 
tyrs and  heroes   of   ancient  times.     They  were   men  "  of 
whom  the  world  was  not  worthy."     They  were  inspired 
with  a  noble  enthusiasm  for  great  ends,  with  dauntless  for- 
titude and   self-devotion,  with  an   unquenchable   faith   m 
things  spiritual,  with  high  hopes  for  the  future  of  human- 
ity.    But,  judged  by  the  outward  eye,  their  life  was  a  fail- 
ure :  they  never  attained  to  the  end  of  their  aspirations  ; 
one  after  another,  like  breaking  waves  on  the  strand  of 
time  they  were  compelled  to  succumb  to  the  universal  lim- 
its of  human  endeavor.     In  the  midst  of  their  noble  strug- 
gles they  were  constrained  in  succession  to  yield  to  the 
inevitable  summons,  their  work  unaccomplished,  their  hopes 
unfulfilled,  the  dearest  object  of  their  lives  nothing  better 


12  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  [sermon  i. 

than  a  far-oflf  goal.  "  These  all  died  in  the  faith,"  it  is 
written,  "  not  having  received  the  promises,  but  having  seen 
them  afar  off."  And  again,  "  These  all,  having  obtained  a 
good  report  through  faith,  received  not  the  promise." 

At  first  sight,  therefore,  the  language  of  the  text  is 
simply  a  repetition  of  the  old  refrain,  "  Vanity  of  vanities," 
with  which  writers,  inspired  and  uninspired,  have  summed 
up  their  trite  moralizings  over  the  evanescence  and  incom- 
pleteness of  human  life.  The  saddest  aspect  of  human 
existence,  this  writer  seems  to  say,  is,  not  simply  that  in 
which  it  seems  to  be  full  of  care  and  sorrow  and  trouble, 
but  that  in  which  it  suggests  the  impression  of  frustration, 
abortiveness,  incompleteness.  We  never  receive  the  prom- 
ise. We  never  are  the  thing  we  seem  designed  to  be.  There 
are  in  our  nature  the  beginnings  and  materials  of  great  things, 
but  they  are  never  realized.  The  foundation  is  ever  grander 
than  the  superstructure,  the  outline  than  the  picture,  the 
promise  than  the  fulfillment.  We  can  form  soaring  ideals 
of  individual  and  social  perfection,  but  they  only  serve  to 
throw  contempt  on  the  poverty  and  meanness  of  our  actual 
life.  Human  nature  seems  to  be  a  thing  of  boundless  pos- 
sibilities but  of  miserable  performances,  of  capacities  which 
are  never,  or  only  feebly  and  partially  developed,  of  desires, 
hopes,  aspirations,  to  which,  even  when  the  will  to  realize 
them  is  present,  the  poor  results  which  our  brief  life  permits 
us  to  reach  are  ludicrously  disproportionate.  Moreover,  it 
is  precisely  in  the  case  of  the  best  and  greatest  of  men  that 
this  incompleteness  is  most  marked.  If  all  men  were,  what 
so  many  seem  tc»  be,  creatures  of  mere  animal  and  selfish 
desires,  finding  all  the  satisfaction  they  care  for  in  eating, 
drinking,  money-making,  in  dress  and  gossip  and  foolish 
display  and  petty  social  rivalries  and  triumphs,  there  would 
be  no  sense  of  incongruity  in  the  brevity  of  human  life. 
There  would  be  nothing  to  startle  or  surprise  us  in  the  fact 
that  an  existence  of  such  mean  and  shallow  aims  should 


CAIBD.J  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  13 

cease  for  ever  when  its  brief  earthly  career  has  run  out. 
Far  less,  indeed,  than  threescore  years  and  ten  suffices  often 
to  play  out  that  poor  plot,  to  exhaust  its  whole  interest  and 
significance.  But  it  is  when  we  turn  to  contemplate  human 
life  in  its  nobler  representatives  that  the  sense  of  unfulfilled 
promise  forces  itself  on  our  minds.  Its  minds  of  rare  and 
piercing  intelligence,  filled  with  the  evei'-growing  thirst  of 
knowledge,  catching  glimpses  on  all  sides  of  unexplored 
regions  of  thought,  into  which  it  would  be  their  delight  to 
penetrate,  and  who  seem  to  themselves,  after  the  labors  of 
a  lifetime,  to  be  only  standing  on  the  very  outskirts  of  the 
realm  of  truth  ;  its  great  originative  intellects,  capable  of 
striking  out  new  discoveries,  of  penetrating  into  the  secrets 
of  nature,  of  discerning  the  w^ants  of  society,  and  of  framing 
comprehensive  plans  for  its  amelioration  and  progress  ;  or, 
finally,  its  beautiful,  heroic,  saintly  spirits,  refined  and  puri- 
fied by  the  discipline  of  years,  exalted  above  all  that  is 
selfish  and  sensual,  and  sometimes  doing  deeds  at  the  mere 
recountal  of  which  our  hearts  thrill  with  involuntary  ad- 
miration, and  which  are  the  silent  proj^hecy  of  an  unre- 
vealed  splendor  in  the  spiritual  nature  of  man — it  is  in  the 
case  of  such  natures  as  these  that  the  cruel  limits  of  life 
strike  us  most  palpably.  The  whole  being  of  such  men 
seems  molded  on  a  scale  that  is  pure  waste  and  extrava- 
gance, measured  by  the  few  and  rapid  years  of  our  individ- 
ual life.  The  infinite  hunger  for  truth  and  goodness,  the 
thoughts  that  wander  through  eteraity,  the  feelings  of  love 
and  adoi'ation  which  point  to  an  object  nothing  less  than 
infinite — it  seems  strange  and  monstrous  that  these  inex- 
haustible capacities  have  no  longer  time  for  satisfaction 
than  the  lust  or  appetite  which  an  hour  will  cloy.  Of  what 
use  the  vision  of  infinite  perfection,  if  the  same  fell  stroke 
is  to  shatter  it  alike  with  the  poorest  dream  of  worldly  suc- 
cess !  What  meaning  is  there  in  the  capacity  of  conceiving 
and  living  for  objects  the  very  least  of  which  it  would  re- 


14  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  [sermon  i. 

quire  many  lives  to  accomplish — in  a  mind  filled  with  great 
designs,  the  results  of  which  it  needs  generations  to  develop, 
or  fired  with  enthusiasm  for  the  progress  of  the  race  in  civ- 
ilization and  goodness,  when  soon  and  for  ever  it  shall  cease 
to  have  any  more  a  part  in  all  that  is  done  beneath  the  sun  ? 
Now,  it  is  this  view  of  human  life  which  in  the  latter 
clause  of  our  text  the  sacred  writer  seems  to  meet.  Is  our 
life  indeed  an  incomplete  and  broken  thing?  Is  human 
existence  but  at  the  best  a  splendid  failure  ?  Is  the  promise 
which  our  nature  contains  never  fulfilled  ?  The  common 
answer,  as  we  all  know,  to  such  questions  is  that  which 
finds  in  the  notion  of  the  "  immortality  of  the  soul "  the 
solution  of  the  difiiculty.  The  life  that  seems  so  incom- 
plete is  only  a  part  of  man's  duration.  It  will  receive  its 
complement  in  a  future  world.  But  whatever  truth  there 
is  in  the  notion  of  individual  immortality,  it  was  obviously 
not  this,  but  another  and  different  idea,  which  was  before 
the  mind  of  the  writer  of  our  text,  as  that  in  which  he  found 
consolation  for  the  fragmentariness  and  imperfection  of  the 
life  of  man.  "  These  all  died  in  the  faith,"  he  writes,  "  not 
having  received  the  promise."  "  These  all,  who  obtained 
a  good  report  through  faith,  received  not  the  promise." 
Their  life,  replete  with  immortal  hopes,  instinct  with  the 
spirit  and  promise  of  a  splendid  future,  was  abruptly  ter- 
minated. But  it  was  not  really  so.  The  promise  was  not 
left  unfulfilled,  the  continuity  was  not  broken.  Their  story 
has  not  been  left  without  a  sequel.  The  life  they  lived  is 
one  that  is  never  broken,  that  never  dies,  that  is  ever  deep- 
ening, developing,  ever  through  the  ages  advancing  to  its 
consummation.  Every  one  of  these  ancient  saints  and 
martyrs,  he  seems  to  say,  has  had  a  share  in  the  advancing 
life  of  humanity,  and  in  the  Christian  Church  of  his  own 
day  he  sees  only  the  flower  and  fruit  of  the  same  plant  of 
which  they  were  the  seed  or  germ,  the  maturity  of  the 
same  organic   life  of  which  the  Church  of  a  former  day 


CAiKD.]  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  15 

was  the  childhood  or  youth.  These  passed  away,  he  ex- 
claims, and  life  in  them  was  one  of  unfulfilled  promise. 
But  of  that  promise  we  are  the  fulfillment :  "  God  having 
provided  some  better  thing  for  us,  that  they  without  us 
should  not  be  made  perfect." 

Let  us  for  a  moment  consider  what  is  involved  in  this 
view  of  the  spiritual  life  of  man,  and  try  to  gather  from  it 
the  lessons  with  which  it  is  fraught. 

The  imperfection  which  this  writer  ascribes  to  the  indi- 
vidual lives  of  a  past  time  arises  necessarily  from  this  :  that 
it  constitutes  the  very  grandeur  and  nobleness  of  human 
.life  to  be  incapable  of  a  purely  individual  perfection,  and 
that  each  successive  generation  can  say  of  the  men  and  the 
ages  that  are  past,  "  They  without  us  could  not  be  made 
perfect." 

And  to  see  this  you  have  only  to  consider  how  all  exist- 
ences rise  in  the  scale  of  nobleness  just  in  proportion  as 
they  are  incapable  of  individual  perfection.  The  stones 
which  are  intended  to  form  part  of  a  building  lose  their 
separate  unity  and  any  completeness  they  possessed  merely 
as  stones.  Taken  apart,  they  might  seem  unmeaning  or 
even  grotesque  and  unshapely  in  form  and  outline.  But  it 
would  be  a  foolish  and  vain  thing  to  try  to  give  them  a 
kind  of  individual  completeness  by  rounding  off  a  ragged 
edge  here  or  filling  up  an  unsightly  gap  there.  It  is  just 
that  which  makes  them  individually  imperfect  that  lends 
to  them  the  capacity  of  contributing  to  a  higher  perfection. 
When  the  stone  is  built  into  the  shaft  or  column,  or  when 
around  and  above  the  unsightly  structural  fragment  rise 
the  other  portions  which  form  its  complement  in  the  unity 
of  some  fair  and  stately  edifice,  we  pex'ceive  how,  lacking 
or  losing  individual  completeness,  it  has  become  sharer  in 
a  greater  and  higher  completeness,  a  necessary  contribu- 
tion to  and  participant  in  the  perfection  and  beauty  of  the 
whole. 


le  COBPOEATS  IMMORTALITY.  [sermon  i. 

That  incapacity  of  individual  perfection  is  the  measure 
of  inherent  dignity  and  excellence  is  still  more  clearly  seen 
when  we  take  the  example  of  the  living  organism.  Here 
too,  as  in  the  previous  illustration,  we  have  a  multiplicity 
of  individual  parts  or  members,  each  of  which,  taken  apart 
by  itself,  has  no  worth  or  significance.  Here  too  that  which 
would  be  a  mere  imperfect  fragment,  a  maimed  or  mutilated 
thing,  if  disunited  from  the  other  members,  receives,  in  its 
union  with  them,  a  share  in  that  larger  life,  that  symmetry, 
order,  proportion,  that  excellence  and  beauty  of  diversity 
in  unity,  which  belongs  to  the  organic  whole.  It  is  in  the 
absolute  surrender  of  any  isolated  existence,  in  the  fulfill- . 
ment  of  its  function  as  existing  for  and  contributing  to  the 
welfare  and  growth  of  the  other  parts  of  the  organism,  that 
the  individual  member  or  organ  receives  back  into  itself  a 
participation  in  a  richer  and  amjDler  existence.  Its  own 
perfection  is  impossible  without  them.  So  long  as  in  the 
living  organism  any  one  part  or  member  is  undeveloped, 
there  is  something  lacking  to  the  perfection  and  happiness 
of  the  rest.  They  without  it  can  not  be  made  perfect. 
Lastly,  there  is  this  peculiarity  in  the  final  perfection  of  the 
organism,  that  it  is  reached,  not,  as  in  the  former  example, 
by  accretion,  but  by  the  perpetual  change  and  renewal  of 
its  elements — by  absorption  and  development.  As  it  rises 
through  its  successive  stages,  the  materials  of  which  it  is 
composed  do  not  remain,  like  the  stones  of  a  building,  fixed 
and  permanent,  one  stone  or  series  of  stones  superimposed 
on  another,  each,  from  foundation  to  copestone,  remaining 
to  the  last  what  it  was  at  the  beginning.  On  the  contrary, 
wherever  there  is  life,  its  earliest  beginnings  are  present  in- 
deed, but  in  a  far  more  intimate  and  subtile  way,  in  the 
beauty  and  perfection  of  its  latest  and  highest  form.  Seed 
or  germ,  rising  stem,  leaf  and  blossom,  fruit  and  flower,  do 
not  continue  side  by  side  ;  the  last  is  the  perfection  of  the 
first,  but  it  is  a  perfection  attained  by  unresting  mutation. 


OAiED.J  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  17 

by  the  seeming  extinction  and  absorption  of  all  that  went 
before.  When  you  have  reached  the  rich  profusion  of  sum- 
mer, the  tender  grace  of  the  vernal  woods  is  a  thing  that  is 
gone  ;  Avhen  you  gather  the  fruit,  the  gay  blossom  has 
passed  away.  And  each  successive  phase  of  the  living  or- 
ganism, as  it  passes  from  the  embryo  to  the  full-grown 
frame  of  manhood,  is  the  vital  result  of  all  that  it  has  been. 
The  past  lives  in  it — it  could  not  be  what  it  now  is  but  for 
the  past — but  nothing  of  that  past  remains  as  it  was  ;  it 
does  remain,  but  it  remains  as  absorbed,  transformed, 
worked  up  into  the  vei*y  essence  of  a  new  and  nobler  being. 
The  unity  of  the  fully  developed  life  gathers  up  into  it,  not 
by  juxtaposition  or  accumulation,  but  in  a  far  deeper  way, 
the  concentrated  results  of  its  whole  bygone  history.  Thus 
the  nobleness  of  imperfect  life  lies  in  its  very  imperfection. 
It  is  greater  than  even  the  most  complete  and  finished  of 
material  things,  because  it  is  full  of  yet  unfulfilled  promise, 
because  the  possibilities  of  an  ever-advancing  progress  are 
concealed  in  it,  because  it  contains  in  it  the  promise  and 
prophecy  of  a  future  without  which  it  can  not  be  made 
perfect. 

Now,  it  is  in  this  idea,  rather  than  in  that  of  a  merely 
individual  immortality,  that  the  writer  of  the  passage  before 
us  finds  the  explanation  of  the  seeming  incompleteness  and 
evanescence  of  human  life.  It  is  here  that  he  seeks  the 
solution  of  that  contrast  of  greatness  and  littleness,  of  noble- 
ness and  meanness,  of  beginnings  so  full  of  promise  and 
results  so  poor  and  insignificant,  on  which  moralists  in  all 
ages  have  been  fain  to  dwell.  Regarded  from  the  indi- 
vidual point  of  view,  human  life  is  the  paradoxical  thing 
which  such  reflections  make  it  to  be.  Individual  happiness, 
individual  perfection  are  never  attained  ;  but  it  is,  he  de- 
clares, the  very  greatness  and  glory  of  man's  nature  to  be 
incapable  of  it.  The  key  to  the  riddle  of  human  life,  the 
explanation  of  the  scale  on  which  our  nature  is  constructed. 


18  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  [sebmon  i. 

of  the  boundlessness  of  its  hopes,  the  inexhaustibleness  of 
its  desires,  of  its  eager  longing  for  a  larger,  fuller,  more 
lasting  life,  of  the  splendor  of  its  ideals,  and  the  dissatisfac- 
tion with  their  best  attainments  which  the  noblest  spirits 
feel,  is  this  :  that  he  who  lives  nobly  and  wisely,  who  rises 
above  the  narrow  life  of  sense,  to  identify  himself  with  that 
which  is  universal  and  infinite,  is  sharer  in  a  life  of  human- 
ity that  is  never  arrested,  and  shall  never  die.  It  needs  lit- 
tle reflection  to  perceive  that  the  whole  order  of  things  in 
which  we  live  is  constructed  not  on  the  principle  that  we 
are  sent  into  this  world  merely  to  prepare  for  another,  or 
that  the  paramount  aim  and  effort  of  every  man  should  be 
to  make  ready  for  death  and  an  unknown  existence  beyond 
the  grave.  On  the  contrary,  in  our  own  nature  and  in  the 
system  of  things  to  which  we  belong,  everything  seems  to 
be  devised  on  the  principle  that  our  interest  in  the  world 
and  human  affairs  is  not  to  terminate  at  death.  It  is  not, 
as  false  moralists  would  have  us  believe,  a  mere  illusion,  a 
proof  only  of  the  folly  and  vanity  of  man,  that  we  do  not 
and  can  not  feel  and  act  as  if  we  were  to  have  no  concern 
with  this  world  the  moment  we  quit  it.  It  is  not  a  mere 
irrational  impulse  that  moves  us  when,  in  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge,  in  the  labors  of  the  statesman  and  legislator,  in 
the  houses  we  build,  the  trees  we  plant,  the  books  we  write, 
the  works  of  art  we  create,  the  schemes  of  social  ameliora- 
tion we  devise,  the  educational  institutions  we  organize  and 
improve,  we  act  otherwise  than  we  should  do  if  our  interest 
in  all  earthly  affairs  were  in  a  few  brief  yeai's  to  come  to 
an  end.  It  is  liot  due  to  a  universal  mistake  that  we  work 
for  a  thousand  ends  the  accomplishment  of  which  we  shall 
not  live  to  see,  that  the  passions  we  feel  are  more  intense, 
the  efforts  we  put  forth  immeasurably  greater,  than  if  we 
were  soon  and  for  ever  to  have  done  with  it  all.  Even  the 
desire  of  posthumous  fame,  which  has  been  the  theme  of  a 
thousand  sarcasms  and  satirical  moralizings,  the  passion  that 


CAiRD.]  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  I9 

impels  us  to  do  deeds  and  create  works  which  men  will  be 
thinking  of  and  honoring  when  we  are  gone,  does  not  rest 
on  a  mere  trick  of  false  association  which  your  clever  psy- 
chologist can  explain  so  deftly,  but  is  the  silent,  ineradicable 
testimony  of  our  nature  to  the  share  we  have  in  the  undying 
life  of  humanity.  So  again  it  is  no  mere  logical  abstraction 
which  rises  before  the  mind  when  we  talk  of  a  national  life 
which  embraces  and  transcends  that  of  the  individuals  who 
pertain  to  it,  and  which,  when  they  seem  to  come  and  go 
like  shadows,  goes  on  broadening,  deepening,  developing  in 
knowledge  and  power  and  freedom.  It  is  no  imaginative 
fiction,  for  example,  but  a  sober  fact  to  which  we  refer, 
when  we  speak  of  the  silent,  steady  growth  of  that  organic 
unity,  that  system  of  ordered  freedom,  which  we  designate 
the  Constitution  of  England,  and  when  we  say  that  chat  is 
the  collective  result  of  all  that  was  valuable  in  the  intellect- 
ual and  moral  and  religious  life  of  the  myriads  who,  from 
the  first  pioneers  of  England's  civilization  downward,  have 
contributed  to  her  progress  ;  that  all  that  her  poets  have 
sung,  and  philosophers  taught,  and  statesmen,  legislators, war- 
riors, patriots,  have  achieved — nay,  all  that  has  been  accom- 
plished by  thousands  of  nameless  and  unhonored  lives  which 
have  been  poured  out  like  water  in  the  cause  of  her  civil 
and  religious  freedom — all  this,  assimilated  and  transmuted 
into  the  very  bone  and  fiber  of  her  social  existence,  lives 
still  in  that  great  and  still  growing  personality,  the  national 
life  of  our  country.  And  when  we  take  a  Avider  range  still, 
it  is  no  mere  figure  of  speech  when  we  say  that  there  is 
another  and  still  grander  personality  which  comprehends 
within  it  the  life  of  nations  as  well  as  of  individuals,  and 
which,  when  the  place  of  nations  knows  them  no  more, 
when  their  function  in  the  providential  order  of  the  world 
has  long  been  finished,  and  their  glory  and  splendor  is  a 
thing  of  the  past,  retains  in  it  the  elements  of  spiritual  good 
which  it  was  their  vocation  to  work  out,  gathered  up  and 


20  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  [sermon  i. 

transfused  into  that  undying  life  of  humanity  without  which 
they  could  not  be  made  perfect.  The  perfection  of  man  is 
not  the  perfection  of  the  Jew,  nor  of  the  Greek,  nor  of  the 
Roman  ;  but  there  is  a  richer,  fuller,  more  complex  life, 
into  which  the  Hebrew  consciousness  of  holiness  and  sin, 
the  ideal  beauty  of  the  Greek,  the  sense  of  law  and  order 
which  Rome  left  as  her  legacy  to  mankind,  flow  together 
and  are  blended  in  the  unity  of  the  Christian  civilization  of 
the  modern  world.  And  that  too,  in  its  turn,  is  still  far 
short  of  that  ideal  perfection  which  our  Christian  faith  re- 
veals, and  for  the  realization  of  w^hich  it  calls  us  to  live  and 
labor.  Eighteen  centuries  ago  a  vision  of  human  perfection, 
a  revelation  of  the  hidden  possibilities  of  our  nature,  broke 
upon  the  world  in  the  pei'son  and  life  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and, 
as  we  contrast  with  this  the  highest  attainments  which  the 
best  of  men  or  communities  have  yet  reached,  it  seems  an 
ideal  toward  which  as  a  yet  far-distant  goal,  with  slow  and 
stumbling  steps,  humanity  is  tending.  Yet  for  this  at  least 
the  belief  in  it  suffices,  in  the  hearts  that  have  become  pene- 
trated with  the  sense  of  its  sublime  reality  and  beauty — to 
assure  them  that  whatever  of  greatness  or  goodness  in  the 
long  course  of  ages  humanity  has  attained,  is  but  an  augury 
of  that  splendid  future  which  is  yet  in  store  for  it.  For  no 
ideal  of  a  perfect  state,  no  dream  of  a  golden  age  or  para- 
dise restored  which  has  ever  visited  the  imagination  of 
genius,  or  risen  before  the  rapt  gaze  of  inspired  seer  or 
prophet,  can  surpass  that  future  of  universal  light  and  love 
which  Christianity  encourages  us  to  hope  for  as  the  destiny 
of  our  race — that  time  when  human  society  shall  be  perme- 
ated through  and  through  with  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  the  whole  race,  and  every  individual  member  of  it,  shall 
rise  to  the  point  of  moral  and  spiritual  elevation  which  that 
life  represents,  when  "  we  shall  all  come  into  the  unity  of  the 
faith,  and  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man, 
unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fullness  of  Christ." 


CMRD.]  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  21 

It  is  then  in  this  idea  that  we  find,  as  I  have  said,  the 
true  solution  of  that  contrast  between  the  la-gness  of  hu- 
man desires  and  hopes  and  the  brevity  of  human  life,  be- 
tween our  far-reaching  aims  and  aspirations  and  the  con- 
tempt which  death  seems  to  pour  on  them.     Death  doeswoZ 
pour  contempt  on  them.     You  can  think  and  desire  and 
work  for  more  than  the  petty  interests  of  your  brief  indi- 
vidual life,  because  you  are  more  and  greater  than  the  in- 
dividual, because  it  is  possible  for  you  to  share  in  a  univer- 
sal and  undying  life,  with  the  future  of  which  your  most 
boundless  aspirations  are  not  incompatible.     It  is  little  in- 
deed that  each  of  us  can  accomplish  within  the  narrow  lim- 
its of  our  own  little  day.     Small  indeed  is  the  contribution 
which  the  best  of  us  can  make  to  the  advancement  of  the 
world  in  knowledge  and  goodness.      But  slight  though  it 
be,  if  the  work  we  do  is  real  and  noble  work,  it  is  never 
lost ;  it  is  taken  up  into  and    becomes  an  integral  moment 
of  that  immortal  life  to  which  all  the  good  and  groat  of  the 
past,  every  wise  thinker,  every  true  and  tender  heart,  every 
fair  and  saintly  spirit,  have  contributed,  and  which,  never 
hasting,  never  resting,  onward  through  the  ages  is  advanc- 
ing to  its  consummation.    Live  for  your  own  petty  interests 
and  satisfactions,  waste  the  treasure  of  an  immortal  nature 
on  the  lust  of  the  eye  and  the  lust  of  the  flesh  and  the  pride 
of  life,  and  death  will  indeed  be  the  destroyer  of  all  your 
hopes  and  ambitions.     But  live  for  the  good  of  others,  live 
to  make  your  fellow-men  wiser  and  happier  and  better,  take 
part  with  those  nobler  spirits  of  all  time  who  have  striven 
for  the  rectification  of  human  wrongs,  the  healing  of  human 
wretchedness,  the  redemption  of  human  souls  from  evil,  the 
advancement    of    the    world    in   knowledge    and    wisdom 
and  goodness — live   for  these  ends,  and  the  whole  order 
and  history  of    the  world,  and  that  Gospel  of    Heaven's 
grace  in  which  we  believe  as  the  revelation  of  God's  pur- 
pose and  plan  for  our  race,  must  prove  a  fable,  if  your 


22  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  [sermon  i. 

most  boundless  hopes  and  aspirations  be  doomed  to  disap- 
pointment. 

But  what,  after  all,  avails  for  me,  does  any  one  ask,  this 
idea  of  a  future  perfection  of  humanity,  these  hopes  and 
endeavors  for  a  world  in  whose  good  or  ill  I  shall  soon  have 
no  place  or  part  ?  It  is  not  the  immortality  of  the  race,  but 
my  own,  that  is  the  great  and  all-important  question  for  me 
— not  whether  the  progress  of  mankind  shall  go  on  in  a 
world  I  am  so  soon  to  quit,  but  whether  there  is  another 
world  beyond  the  grave,  and  whether  death  shall  find  me 
prepared  for  it.  Even  if  it  be  true  that  this  dream  of  a  per- 
fect social  state  is  in  some  far-distant  day  to  be  realized  in 
this  world,  what  personal  interest  can  I  have  in  a  perfection 
and  happiness  I  shall  never  know  and  in  which  I  shall  never 
participate  ? 

I  answer,  that  the  idea  of  the  text,  far  from  destroying, 
only  lends  new  significance  and  reality  to,  the  hope  of  a 
personal  immortality.  It  leaves  the  arguments  for  immor- 
tality which  reason  and  Christian  faith  suggest  precisely 
what  they  were  ;  only  it  bids  us  think  of  that  immortality, 
not  as  a  vague  and  shadowy  state  of  blessedness  in  some 
unknown  existence  beyond  the  grave,  but  as  the  realization 
of  those  possibilities  of  perfection  which  our  nature  con- 
tains, and  which  are  present  here  and  now,  ready  to  be 
elicited  in  the  common  earthly  life  of  man.  "  These  all  died 
in  the  faith,  not  having  received  the  promise."  That  for 
which  these  ancient  heroes  and  martyrs  lived  and  labored, 
that  which  would  be  to  them  the  crown  and  consummation 
of  their  dearest  hopes  and  the  reward  of  their  sacrifice  and 
self-devotion,  was  not  a  heaven  of  dreamy,  isolated  happi- 
ness, to  which  at  the  hour  of  death  they  should  withdraw, 
no  longer  to  be  affected  by  the  struggles  and  sorrows  of 
humanity.  They  toiled  and  suffered  and  died  for  the  good 
of  mankind  ;  their  dearest,  deepest  desires  Avere  not  for  self- 
ish happiness  here  or  hereaftei',  but  for  the  redemption  of 


CAiRD.]  CORPORATE  IMMORTALITY.  23 

the  world  from  evil ;  this  was  the  heaven  they  longed  for,  and 
the  bliss  of  any  other  heaven  would  be  incomplete  without  it. 
And  we  too,  if  we  inherit  their  spirit,  shall  feel  that  for 
the  heaven  we  seek  we  need  not  fly  away  on  the  wings  of 
imagination  to  some  unknown  region  of  celestial  enjoyment 
where  we  shall  summer  high  in  bliss  heedless  of  mankind — 
where,  lost  in  seraphic  contemplation,  steeped  in  voluptu- 
ous spiritual  enjoyment,  we  shall  forget  or  be  unaffected  by 
the  good  or  evil  of  the  world  we  have  left.  The  materials 
of  our  heaven,  the  elements  of  that  glorious  future  in  which 
we  hope  one  day  to  share,  are  present  here,  within  us  and 
around  us,  in  our  very  hands  and  in  our  mouths.  The  Di- 
vine and  Eternal  are  ever  near  us.  God  does  not  dwell  in 
some  far-off  point  of  space  ;  He  is  not  more  present  any- 
where else  than  on  this  earth  of  ours,  nor  could  any  local 
transition  or  physical  transformation  bring  him  nearer. 
God  is  here,  above,  beneath,  around  us  ;  and  the  only 
change  that  is  needed  to  bring  us  to  the  beatific  vision  of 
his  presence  is  the  quickening  and  clarifying  of  human  souls. 
Purify  and  ennoble  these,  let  pure  light  fill  the  minds  and 
pure  love  the  hearts  of  men,  and  heaven  would  be  here,  the 
common  air  and  skies  would  become  resplendent  with  a  di- 
vine glory.  The  eternal  world  is  not  a  world  beyond  time 
and  the  grave.  It  embraces  time  ;  it  is  ready  to  realize 
itself  under  all  the  forms  of  temporal  things.  Its  light  and 
power  are  latent  everywhere,  waiting  for  human  souls  to 
welcome  it,  ready  to  break  through  the  transparent  veil  of 
earthly  things,  and  to  suffuse  with  its  ineffable  radiance  the 
common  life  of  man.  And  so,  the  siiprerae  aim  of  Chris- 
tian endeavor  is  not  to  look  away  to  an  inconceivable  heav- 
en beyond  the  skies,  and  to  spend  our  life  in  preparing  for 
it,  but  it  is  to  realize  that  latent  heaven,  those  possibilities 
of  spiritual  good,  that  undeveloped  kingdom  of  righteous- 
ness and  love  and  truth,  which  human  nature  and  human 
society  contain. 


24  CORPOEATE  IMMORTALITY.  [seemon  i. 

Does  any  one  press  on  me  tlie  thought  that,  say  what 
you  will  of  the  future,  death  to  each  of  us  is  near,  and  no 
ulterior  hope  can  quell  the  nearer  anxiety  as  to  what  is  to 
become  of  us,  and  how  we  are  to  prepare  for  that  fast-ap- 
proaching, inevitable  hour?  Then  I  answer,  finally,  that 
to  whatever  world  death  introduce  you,  the  best  conceiv- 
able preparation  for  it  is  to  labor  for  the  highest  good  of  the 
world  in  which  you  live.  Be  the  change  which  death  brings 
what  it  may,  he  who  has  spent  his  life  in  trying  to  make 
this  world  better  can  never  be  unprepared  for  another.  If 
heaven  is  for  the  pure  and  holy,  if  that  which  makes  men 
good  is  that  which  best  qualifies  for  heaven,  what  better 
discipline  in  goodness  can  we  conceive  for  a  human  spirit, 
what  more  calculated  to  elicit  and  develop  its  highest  affec- 
tions and  energies,  than  to  live  and  labor  for  our  brother's 
welfare  ?  To  find  our  deepest  joy,  not  in  the  delights  of 
sense,  nor  in  the  gratification  of  personal  ambition,  nor  even 
in  the  serene  pursuits  of  culture  and  science,  nay,  not  even 
in  seeking  the  safety  of  our  own  souls,  but  in  striving  for 
the  highest  good  of  those  who  are  dear  to  our  Father  in 
heaven,  and  the  moral  and  spiritual  redemption  of  that 
world  for  which  the  Son  of  God  lived  and  died — say,  can  a 
nobler  school  of  goodness  be  discovered  than  this  ?  Where 
shall  love  and  sympathy  and  beneficence  find  ampler  train- 
ing ?  or  patience,  courage,  dauntless  devotion,  nobler  oppor- 
tunities of  exercise — than  in  the  war  with  evil?  Where 
shall  faith  find  richer  culture,  or  hope  a  more  entrancing 
aim,  than  in  that  victory  over  sin  and  sorrow  and  death, 
which,  if  Christianity  be  true,  is  one  day  to  crown  the  strife 
of  ages  ?  Live  for  this,  find  your  dearest  work  here,  let 
love  to  God  and  man  be  the  animating  principle  of  your 
being  ;  and  then,  let  death  come  when  it  may,  and  carry 
you  where  it  will,  you  will  not  be  unprepared  for  it.  The 
rendinjT  of  the  veil  which  hides  the  secrets  of  the  unseen 
world,  the  summons  that  calls  you  into  regions  unknown, 


CAiKD.]  COEFOEATE  IMMORTALITY.  25 

need  awaken  in  your  breast  no  perturbation  or  dismay,  for 
you  can  not  in  God's  universe  go  where  love  and  truth  and 
self-devotion  are  things  of  naught,  or  where  a  soul,  filled 
with  undying  faith  in  the  progress  and  identifying  its  own 
happiness  with  the  final  triumph  of  goodness,  shall  find  it- 
self forsaken. 

2 


26  UmON  WITH  GOD.  [sEEiioN  u. 


n. 

UNIOK  WITH  GOD. 

BT    THE    VERY    HEV.    JOHN    CAIRD,    D.  D.,    PRINCIPAL    OF    THE    UNIVERSITY 

OF   GLASGOW 

"  That  they  all  may  be  one ;  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in 
thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us.  .  .  ,  And  the  glory  which 
thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  them  ;  that  they  may  be  one,  even  as 
we  are  one :  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  they  maybe  made  per- 
fect in  one." — John  svii,  21-23. 

By  those  who  reject  the  doctrine  of  the  Divinity  of 
Christ,  great  stress  is  often  laid  on  the  argument  that  what- 
ever tampers  with  Christ's  real  and  simple  humanity  de- 
prives Christianity  of  that  which  gives  it  its  chief  value  as 
a  religion  for  man.  The  mysterious  grandeur  which  is 
thrown  around  the  personality  of  the  Author  of  our  religion 
is  dearly  bought  if  it  removes  him  beyond  the  reach  of  our 
human  sympathies,  or  makes  it  impossible  to  think  of  him 
as  in  any  real  sense  sharing  our  sorrows,  infirmities,  and 
temptations,  and  as  exhibiting  in  his  life  an  ideal  of  excel- 
lence to  which  all  human  beings  may  aspire.  The  most 
precious  ingredient  of  Christianity  is,  it  is  said,  the  ideal 
which  Christ's  character  and  life  present  of  what  humanity 
essentially  is,  and  of  what  we  may  become.  It  communi- 
cates a  new  inspiration  to  virtue,  a  new  impulse  to  moral 
endeavor,  to  contemplate  in  him  a  revelation  of  the  hidden 
beauty  and  greatness  of  our  nature.  It  ministers  strength 
to  us  amid  the  temptations  of  life  to  see  how  a  noble  human 


cAiRD.]  UNION  WITH  GOD.  27 

spirit  triumphed  over  them ;  and  human  wretchedness, 
through  a  hundred  generations,  has  found  its  sweetest  con- 
solation in  the  thought  of  the  tender  sympathy  of  one  who 
drank  more  deeply  than  all  other  mortals  of  the  cup  of  suf- 
fering, who  was  preeminently  "  the  man  of  sori'ows  and  ac- 
quainted with  grief." 

But,  it  is  argued,  all  this  consolation  and  encouragement 
are  lost  the  moment  you  introduce  a  foreign  or  superhuman 
element  into  the  conception  of  Christ's  person.  Not  only 
does  the  mind  become  confused  in  the  attempt  to  grasp 
such  a  notion  as  that  of  a  being  half-human,  half-divine, 
but  the  life  and  history  of  such  a  being  are  deprived  of  their 
exemplary  value.  What  we  need  is  a  type,  not  of  super- 
human, but  of  human  excellence.  If  it  is  to  afford  any 
stimulus  to  effort,  what  is  set  before  me  must,  however  ex- 
alted in  degree,  be  an  example  not  of  what  is  possible  for 
an  angel  or  a  God,  but  of  what  is  possible  for  a  man.  It 
gives  me  no  encouragement,  in  facing  the  temptations  to 
which  flesh  is  heir,  to  be  told  how  a  being  whose  human 
nature  was  rendered  infallible  by  combination  with  a  Divine 
.  nature  overcame  them.  It  does  not  make  me  more  coura- 
geous in  fighting  life's  conflicts  to  witness  a  being,  practi- 
cally omnipotent,  coming  scatheless  out  of  them.  When  I 
vainly  try  to  conceive  of  an  immutable  sufferer,  an  omnipo- 
tent weakness,  of  a  consciousness  of  pain  and  doubt  and 
perplexity  experienced  by  a  being  who  is  at  the  same  time 
impassible  and  omniscient,  the  sense  of  sympathy  is  over- 
awed and  repressed.  I  can  no  longer  feel  the  magic  thrill 
that  responds  in  the  hour  of  sorrow  and  darkness  to  the 
touch  of  a  tender  human  hand.  Set  before  me  the  example 
of  a  being  of  flesh  and  blood,  and,  however  splendid  it  be, 
I  can  at  all  events  feel  rebuked  by  its  faultless  purity  and 
nobleness  ;  but,  by  the  example  of  what  was  achieved  by 
a  God  in  human  shape,  I  am  no  more  humiliated  than  the 
crawling  worm  or  browsing  cattle  by  the  eagle's  soaring 


28  UAH  ON  WITH  GOD  [sermon  ii. 

flight.  If  Christ  was  man,  and  nothing  more  than  man, 
though  I  fall  miserably  short  of  the  perfection  and  beauty 
of  his  life,  I  can  at  least  try  to  be  like  him,  and  be  ennobled 
by  my  very  failures  ;  but  is  there  not  a  kind  of  blasphemy 
as  well  as  folly  in  the  very  thought  of  a  finite  being  strain- 
ing after  resemblance  to  infinitude  and  omnijDotence  ? 

Now,  while  there  is,  no  doubt,  a  way  of  thinking  about 
the  nature  of  God  and  man  which  would  render  this  objec- 
tion to  the  Christian  doctrine  unanswerable,  there  is  another 
and  different  conception  of  them  which  our  Lord's  words 
in  this  passage  bring  before  us,  and  which  completely  meets 
the  difliculty.  He  makes  it  possible  for  all  men  to  sympa- 
thize with  him,  not  by  leveling  down  his  own  nature,  but 
by  raising  theirs  ;  not  by  disclaiming  his  own  Divinity,  but 
by  declaring  that  there  are  Divine  elements.  Divine  possi- 
bilities, in  the  common  nature  of  man.  He  does  not  im- 
poverish, himself  of  his  own  infinitude,  but  He  reveals  the 
possibilities  of  an  infinite  wealth  in  us.  "  It  is  true,"  He 
seems  to  tell  us,  "  that  I  am  Divine,  that  the  human  con- 
sciousness in  me  is  in  absolute  union  with  the  consciousness 
of  God  :  '  Thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee.'  But,  in 
so  saying,  I  do  not  place  an  impassa])le  gulf  between  my 
nature  and  yours,  so  as  to  remove  myself  beyond  the  reach 
of  your  human  fellowship  and  sympathy.  I  do  not  say  that 
what  I  am  you  can  never  hope  to  become.  In  the  contem- 
plation of  my  example,  and  of  the  ideal  of  goodness  and 
greatness  which  I  set  before  you,  there  is  no  point  at  which 
human  sympathy  and  hope  need  be  arrested.  You,  too, 
may  become  *  partakers  of  a  Divine  nature.'  It  is  no  impos- 
sible and  extravagant  aspiration  for  you,  also,  to  entertain, 
that  ye  '  may  be  perfect,  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  per- 
fect.' *  This  is  the  record  that  God  hath  given  to  you,  eter- 
nal life,'  '  that  eternal  life  which  is  in  the  Father  and  in  his 
Son  Jesus  Christ.'  To  enter  into  such  identification  with 
the  very  nature  of  Deity  that  your  thoughts,  like  mine. 


CAiKD.]  UNION  WITH  GOD.  29 

shall  be  God's  thoughts,  your  will  and  actions,  like  mine,  a 
Divine  will,  a  Divine  activity — to  become  thus  one  with 
God  as  I  am,  is  not  to  transcend  but  to  realize  your  true 
nature  as  men.  For  nothing  less  than  this  is  the  height  of 
spiritual  attainment,  the  glorious  consummation  which  I 
seek  for  humanity,  for  all  my  brethren  after  the  flesh, '  That 
they  all  may  be  one  ;  as  thou.  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in 
thee.  ...  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be 
made  perfect  in  one.'  " 

Now,  there  can  be  no  question  that  these  words  have  to 
the  ear  Avhat,  if  we  met  them  in  an  uninspired  book,  many 
would  be  disposed  to  characterize  as  a  pantheistic  sound, 
and  that  the  oneness  or  identification  with  Deity  to  which 
they  point  seems  to  be  open  to  the  same  objections  which 
are  often  urged  against  pantheistic  teaching.  What  our 
Lord  here  speaks  of  is  not  a  mere  outward  relationship  be- 
tween God  and  man,  such  as  subsists  between  distinct  and 
independent  persons,  as,  for  instance,  between  a  master  and 
servant,  between  a  ruler  and  subject — between  beings,  that 
is,  who,  though  they  may  enter  into  such  external  relations, 
have  yet  a  distinct  and  separate  individual  life  of  their  own  ; 
but  it  is  a  oneness  or  union  with  God,  of  which  his  own  in- 
divisible j)ersonality  is  the  type — a  union  therefore  which 
is  not  that  of  two  beings,  a  human  and  Divine,  existing 
side  by  side  or  in  contiguity  with  each  other,  but  in  which 
the  consciousness — the  thought  and  will — of  the  one,  is  ab- 
solutely blended  and  identified  with  that  of  the  other,  in 
which  the  human  is  no  lomrer  divisible  from  the  Divine  : 
"  As  thou.  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  may 
be  one  in  us."  But  is  not  the  great  objection  to  pantheism 
and  pantheistic  religions  and  philosophies  just  this,  that 
they  tamper  with  or  swamp  the  individuality,  the  moral 
independence  and  responsibility  of  man?  Our  high  pre- 
rogative as  moral  and  spiritual  beings  is,  that  we  have  each 
of  us  a  separate  self,  a  consciousness  and  will  which  no  other 


30  UNION  WITH  GOD.  [seemon  ii. 

being  can  invade,  and  in  virtue  of  which  we  are  each  of  us 
responsible  for  his  own  acts  and  architect  of  his  own  moral 
life  and  destiny.  Amid  the  myriads  of  beings  who  con- 
stitute the  human  race,  is  there  not  given  to  each  a  moral 
individuality,  a  life  which  belongs  to  him  apart  from  all 
around  him,  a  career  of  duty  which  no  other  can  fulfill  for 
him,  and  which  in  time  and  eternity  he  and  he  alone  must 
accomplish  ?  Is  not  each  human  soul,  as  is  often  said,  alone 
amid  the  crowd  ?  However  close  the  relations  into  which 
we  enter  with  others,  however  intimate  the  ties  of  kindred 
or  friendship,  or  of  common  inclinations  and  pursuits,  can 
the  closest  of  these  for  a  moment  break  down  the  impass- 
able barrier  between  each  and  all  other  souls  ?  In  my  sor- 
rows you  may  pity  me,  but  the  tenderest  affection  can  not 
make  my  pain  yours.  In  my  guilt  and  sin  you  may  grieve 
for  me,  but  my  sin  can  never  become  yours,  the  burden  of 
my  moral  acts  can  never  be  rolled  over  to  you,  now  and  for 
ever  my  goodness  or  my  guilt  is  all  my  own.  And  is  not 
this  gift  of  spiritual  individuality,  which  in  some  of  its 
aspects  is  so  awful,  just  that  which  raises  man  above  all 
other  finite  beings — above  the  mere  unconscious  life  of  na- 
ture, above  the  life  of  animals  in  whom  the  race  is  all,  the 
individual  nothing — and  which  makes  it  possible  for  him 
to  attain  a  height  of  spiritual  excellence,  a  perfection  gained 
by  free  self-development,  a  wealth  of  character  wrought  out 
by  individual  effort,  which  no  otherwise  could  be  reached  ? 
In  this  precious  gift,  this  possession  of  an  inalienable  self, 
this  right  of  each  man  to  be  himself,  and  to  make  and 
develop  himself,  have  not  men  recognized  the  root  of  all 
liberty  of  thought,  of  all  social,  political,  and  religious 
freedom?  Take  this  away,  annul  that  in  the  individual 
in  virtue  of  which  he  can  say,  in  the  face  of  every  human 
power  and  authority.  You  may  possess  yourself  of  my  prop- 
erty, fetter,  imprison,  and  torture  my  body,  but  you  can  not 
master  my  thoughts  or  invade  the  sanctuary  of  my  soul — 


CAIRO.]  UNION  WITH  GOD.  31 

take  away  this,  and  would  you  not  deprive  man  of  his  spir- 
itual birthright,  of  a  treasure  for  which  nothing  else  could 
compensate  ?  Nay,  may  we  not  say  with  reverence,  that 
it  is  the  greatness  and  blessedness  of  man  as  a  spiritual, 
responsible  being,  that  herein  he  possesses  a  prerogative 
which  even  Omnipotence  can  not  invade  ?  It  is  because  I 
can  offer  to  God  a  free  obedience  and  love  that  He  is  glori- 
fied in  my  service  and  devotion.  And  if  you  could  conceive 
even  a  Divine  Being  susi5ending  or  taking  away  this  indi- 
viduality, bj'eaking  down  the  barrier  which  divides  my  will 
and  consciousness  from  his,  taking  possession  of  my  thoughts 
and  volitions  so  that  they  should  no  longer  be  my  own  but 
his,  making  the  movements  of  my  mind  as  much  the  ex- 
pression of  Ills  will  as  the  motions  of  my  limbs  are  of  mine  ; 
you  might  call  this  the  elevation  of  the  hiiman  into  unity 
with  the  Divine,  but  it  would  be  no  real  elevation,  it  would 
be  rather  the  degradation  and  destruction  of  that  in  virtue 
of  which  I  am  a  being  made  in  God's  own  image,  and  which 
distinguishes  my  nature  from  that  of  the  beasts  that  perish. 

Now,  undoubtedly,  this  idea  of  human  individuality  and 
of  what  is  involved  in  it  is  just  and  true,  and  it  is  impos- 
sible to  tamper  with  it  without  subverting  the  basis  on 
which  morality  and  religion  rest.  But  while  it  is  the  fatal 
objection  to  all  pantheistic  theories  that  they  do  tamper 
with  it,  I  think  we  shall  see  that  our  Lord's  words  in  the 
text  are  the  exi^ression  of  what  may  be  described  as  a  Chris- 
tian pantheism  which  is  not  only  consistent  with  the  indi- 
viduality of  man,  but  gives  to  our  conception  of  it  new 
significance  and  reality.  He  tells  us  of  a  oneness  with  God 
so  absolute  that  we  may  be  said  to  be  in  God  and  God  in 
us,  that  our  spiritual  being  shall  be  no  more  separate  from 
God's  than  Christ's  own,  and  yet  in  which,  so  far  from  be- 
ing infringed  or  sacrificed,  our  nature  as  men  shall  reach 
its  highest  perfection. 

Now,  in  order  to  see  how  absolute  oneness  with  God 


32  UNION   WITH  GOD.  [sermon  n. 

may  be  consistent  with  the  most  perfect  individuality  of 
man — in  other  words,  that  a  state  of  being  is  conceivable 
in  which  thought,  feeling,  will,  the  whole  consciousness  of 
man,  shall  be  no  longer  separate  from  the  Divine  ;  in  which 
God  shall  be  all  in  all,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  the  moral 
individuality,  the  personality  and  freedom  of  man,  so  far 
from  being  suppressed,  shall  attain  to  its  highest  realization 
— to  see  how  this  may  be,  I  will  ask  you  to  reflect  for  a 
moment  what  is  the  deepest  and  most  real  kind  of  unity 
you  can  think  of,  what  is  that  oneness  which  is  most  abso- 
lute and  indestructible,  and  whether  that  is  a  unity  which 
is  attained  by  the  suppression,  or  not  rather  by  the  free 
play  and  development,  of  individual  differences.  The  parts 
of  a  stone  are  all  precisely  alike,  the  parts  of  a  piece  of 
mechanism  are  all  different  from  each  other  ;  in  which  case 
is  the  unity  deepest  ? — in  that  in  which  all  distinction  is  sup- 
pressed, or  in  that  in  which  each  separate  part  has  a  distinct 
character,  an  individuality  of  its  own  ?  No  one  portion  of 
a  mass  of  sandstone  differs  essentially  from  any  other  ;  any 
one  of  the  same  size  and  shape  would  supply  the  place  of 
another,  and  in  the  unity  which  they  compose  even  the  poor 
distinction  of  size  and  shape  is  completely  lost.  In  a  watch, 
a  steam-engine,  or  other  elaborate  machine,  each  part  has 
a  distinctive  character  and  worth,  a  place  and  function  of 
its  own  ;  and  so  far  from  losing  that  individuality  when 
brought  into  the  common  unity,  it  is  there  and  only  there 
that  that  individuality  is  manifested  and  realized.  Apart 
from  the  other  pieces  of  the  mechanism,  each  separate  por- 
tion sinks  into  a  mere  lump  of  metal.  Yet  who  will  hesi- 
tate to  pronounce  in  which  case  the  unity  is  deepest?  In 
the  one  the  parts  have  no  inner  essential  relation  to  each 
other,  no  deeper  connection  than  that  of  mere  juxtaposition. 
In  the  other  they  are  not  merely  stuck  together  externally, 
but  they  exist  and  act,  each  for  and  by  the  others  ;  each  is 
necessary  to  the  rest,  and  no  one  could  be  left  out  without 


CAIRO.]  UNION   WITH  GOD.  33 

marring  or  subverting  the  existence  of  tlie  whole.  The 
inner  bond  of  a  common  idea  or  design,  and  of  order,  har- 
mony, proportion,  runs  through  them  all  and  welds  them 
together  into  a  unity  far  transcending  that  of  arbitrary  and 
outward  contiguity.  Surely  it  is  here,  in  this  latter  exam- 
ple, that  the  unity  is  most  profound,  and  yet  it  is  just  here 
that  individuality  is  best  preserved. 

But  there  are  deeper  unities  than  this.  A  living  organ- 
ism, such  as  the  body  of  man  or  any  other  animal,  is  a  unity 
not  merely  of  parts,  each  of  which  fulfills  a  function  neces- 
sary to  the  rest,  so  that  the  brain,  heart,  lungs,  the  various 
members  and  organs,  have  absolutely  no  separate  or  sepa- 
rable existence  or  life,  so  that  each  lives  in  and  by  the  rest, 
their  life  its  life,  its  life  not  its  own  but  theirs  ;  but,  more 
than  that,  it  is  a  unity  ■which,  unlike  that  of  the  machine, 
the  parts  themselves /ce^,  so  that  each  sulfers  in  the  injury 
or  suffering,  is  haj)py  with  the  happiness  and  well-being  of 
the  rest.  But  here,  again,  the  closer  and  more  integral  one- 
ness is  not  attained  at  the  cost,  but  rather  by  the  more 
intense  development,  of  individual  distinctiveness.  Each 
member  and  organ  is  itself,  attains  to  the  richest  develop- 
ment of  its  individual  nature,  gains  itself,  so  to  speak,  only 
where  it  surrenders  itself,  its  whole  being  and  activity,  to 
the  unity  in  which  it  is  comprehended.  If  it  begin  to  act 
for  itself,  to  seclude  itself,  to  display  any  independent 
phenomena,  any  slightest  movement  that  is  not  conditioned 
by  the  organism  to  which  it  belongs,  the  isolation  is  a  fatal 
one.  And  if  it  is  entirely  separated  from  the  rest,  if  it 
ceases  to  be  permeated  by  a  life  that  is  other  than  its  own, 
the  severed  liml)  or  dissected  organ  loses  its  whole  reality 
and  worth,  and  becomes  mere  dead  inorganic  matter. 

And  now,  to  apply  this  thought.  I  think  we  may  be- 
gin to  see  that  the  isolated  unity  of  each  individual  self, 
the  separate,  solitary  consciousness  which  makes  each  hu- 
man soul  the  bearer  of  its  own  burden  of  good  or  ill,  though 


34  UNION  WITH  GOD.  [seemon  ii. 

SO  far  true,  is  not  the  last  word  that  is  to  be  said  in  the  ac- 
count of  the  spiritual  nature  and  life  of  man.  However 
important,  it  is  only  one  side  of  the  truth,  and  it  is  possible 
to  exaggerate  its  significance.  There  is  a  sense  in  which 
this  conception  of  a  solitary,  individualistic  unity  gives 
place  to  a  deeper  and  higher  thought,  the  thought,  viz., 
that  no  man  liveth  to  himself  ;  yea,  that  the  true  life  of 
self  is  never  realized  till  the  life  of  others  streams  into  and 
becomes  a  part  of  our  own,  and,  last  of  all,  until  our  shal- 
low separate  life  is  taken  up  into  the  universal  and  infinite 
life,  and  we  then  begin  to  live  truly  when  we  live  in  the 
life  of  God. 

"  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be  made  per- 
fect in  one."  This  is  true,  in  the  first  place,  of  our  rela- 
tions to  each  other,  and  it  is  still  more  profoundly  true  of 
our  relations  to  God.  It  is  true  of  each  individual,  in  his 
relations  to  other  beings  like  himself,  that  his  and  their  per- 
fection is  only  in  their  unity.  Union  with  other  minds  and 
lives  is  not  the  suppression  but  the  evolution  and  realization 
of  our  own  individual  nature  ;  and  the  more  nearly  that 
unity  approaches  to  absolute  identification,  so  much  the 
more  intense  and  rich  does  our  own  individual  life  become. 
Not  more  true  is  it  that  the  heart  has  no  separate  life  from 
the  brain,  the  nervous  system,  the  other  parts  and  members 
of  the  organism,  and  that  each  becomes  mere  dead  and 
worthless  matter  if  severed  from  the  rest,  than  that  a  hu- 
man spirit,  assei'ting  and  standing  by  its  own  independent 
identity,  is  dead,  being  alone. 

Nay,  some  one  perhaps  will  answer  me,  it  is  surely  the 
extravagance  of  rhetoric  thus  to  exaggerate  a  mere  physical 
analogy.  The  member  of  an  organism  is  not  the  whole, 
and  has  no  life  apart  from  the  rest ;  but  I  have  in  myself 
all  the  elements  of  humanity — intelligence,  feeling,  will, 
conscience,  irrespective  of  any  other  human  being,  and  I 
should  still  possess  them  if  all  other  human  beings  should 


CAiKD.]  UNION  WITH  GOD.  35 

cease  to  exist.  The  true  account  of  the  matter  is  that,  hav- 
ing an  individual  identity,  a  nature  of  my  own,  self-con- 
tained and  complete,  I  choose  to  enter  into  relations  with 
other  and  equally  independent  members  of  the  race.  I  an- 
swer, in  the  first  place,  it  is  not  true  that  you  are  or  can  be 
thus  independent.  Whether  you  will  or  no,  there  is  a  sense 
in  v/hich  other  minds  and  wills  are  a  part  of  you.  Not 
merely  physically,  but  intellectually  and  morally,  you  are 
not  related  to  others  only  as  you  choose  to  relate  yourself. 
From  the  very  dawn  of  your  existence  your  spiritual  nature 
is  steeped  in  the  life  of  the  past,  in  the  spirit  of  the  age  and 
society  into  which  you  are  born,  and  in  the  unconscious  in- 
fluences that  emanate  from  other  minds.  Hereditary  ten- 
dencies live  in  you  and  mold  your  opinions,  feelings,  be- 
liefs, ways  of  thinking  and  acting,  as  really  and  involun- 
tarily as  ancestral  features  impress  their  stamp  on  your 
countenance,  or  the  health  or  disease  of  bygone  generations 
is  transmitted  to  your  bodily  frame.  Each  soul  does  not 
make  a  new  start  to  shape  its  own  independent  career.  For 
good  or  ill,  it  is  part  of  an  organic  whole.  It  can  no  more 
shut  itself  off  from  tlie  universal  life  than  the  most  secluded 
loch  or  bay  can  cease,  in  the  rippling  and  receding  of  its 
tiny  waters,  to  respond  to  the  great  tidal  movements  of  the 
ocean.  But  I  answer,  in  the  second  place,  that  if  he  could 
conceive  a  thoroughly  isolated  individual,  he  would  not  be 
truly  man,  but  only  a  fragment  of  humanity.  Suppose  a 
human  being  shut  up  from  infancy  in  isolation  from  all 
other  human  beings,  of  how  much  would  his  nature  be 
mutilated  that  is  necessary  to  the  very  idea  of  humanity  ! 
One  side  of  man's  spiritual  nature  would  remain  practically 
extinct.  All  that  range  of  qualities  which  are  possible  only 
in  the  various  social  relations,  all  those  thoughts,  feelings, 
emotions,  moral  tendencies  and  activities  which  can  exist 
only  in  and  through  the  existence  of  other  men — affection, 
sympathy,  love,  admiration,  reverence,  compassion,  self-de- 


36  UmON  WITH  GOD.  [sermon  ti, 

votion,  patriotism,  philanthropy — would  never  emerge  into 
existence  in  us,  would  remain  at  best  only  unrealized  possi- 
bilities within  the  spirit.  To  a  human  being  thus  reared  in 
a  solitary  world,  the  creation  of  a  brother  spirit  would  be 
as  the  creation  of  a  new  soul  within  his  breast ;  in  another 
life  a  second  self  would  start  into  being.  And  once  more 
on  this  point,  I  answer,  that  we  grow  in  elevation  and 
nobleness  of  nature  just  in  proportion  as  we  merge  our  in- 
dividual life  and  happiness  in  the  life  and  happiness  of 
others.  Love,  friendship,  philanthropy,  self-sacrifice — what 
is  the  true  significance  of  such  words  as  these  ?  What  does 
the  lover  or  friend  mean  when  he  says  that  another's  hap- 
piness is  dearer  to  him  than  his  own  ?  What  does  the  pa- 
triot mean  when,  far  more  expressively  than  by  words,  in 
the  language  of  a  life  of  self-devotion  to  country  or  cause, 
giving  up  all  thought  of  self  and  of  his  own  particular 
interests  and  enjoyments,  he  sacrifices  time,  thought,  ease, 
pleasure,  ambition,  all  that  most  men  hold  dear,  nay  even 
life  itself,  for  the  sake  of  others — what  does  he  declare  but 
this,  that  the  life  and  being  of  others  has  to  him  taken  the 
place  of  his  own,  that  the  good  of  others  has  become  to  him 
not  merely  as  his  own,  but  more  really  his  than  his  own  ? 
And  yet  by  all  this  identification  of  self  with  the  wider  life 
of  mankind,  has  he  suppressed  or  quelled  his  own  true  in- 
dividuality ?  Nay,  rather,  when  we  think  of  the  widening 
of  thought  and  deepening  of  feeling,  the  expansion  of  the 
whole  moral  nature,  the  pure  unsought  joy  and  blessedness 
that  crown  a  life  devoted  to  impersonal  and  unselfish  ends, 
might  we  not  put  into  the  lips  of  such  a  one  the  declara- 
tion, "I  am  dead  to  self,  nevertheless  I  live"?  And,  if  we 
could  only  conceive  a  state  of  human  society  in  which  such 
love  and  devotion  should  be  universally  reciprocated,  in 
which  each  member  of  it  lived  no  longer  to  himself,  but 
found  his  life,  his  own  deepest  joy  and  satisfaction,  in  the 
life  and  joy  of  others,  might  not  this  emphatically  be  de- 


CAiRD.]  UNION   WITH  GOD.  37 

scribed  by  such  words  as  these  :  "  I  in  them,  and  they  in 
me,  that  we  may  be  made  perfect  in  one  "  ? 

Lastly,  the  religious  man's  life  is  a  life  lived  not  merely 
in  the  life  of  others,  but  in  the  life  of  God. 

Does  religion  mean  belief  in  God  as  the  "Almighty 
Creator  and  Moral  Governor  of  the  world,"  and  obedience 
to  his  commands  ?  Is  it  a  true  and  exhaustive  account  of 
the  religious  life  to  say  that  it  is  a  life  governed  by  a  sense 
of  responsibility  to  that  Being  who  is  the  Omniscient  and 
Righteous  Judge  of  man,  and  who  will  reward  and  punish 
us  according  to  our  deeds  ?  No  doubt  this  is  much  ;  no 
doubt  to  believe  in  any  moral  authority  and  submit  to  it, 
to  lead  for  any  reason  a  virtuous  life,  is  better  than  to  fol- 
low our  unrestrained  impulses  and  lead  a  life  of  immorality 
and  licentiousness.  But  something  more  and  deeper  than 
this  surely  is  implied  in  that  relation  to  God  which  can  be 
described  by  such  words  as  these  :  "  I  in  them,  and  thou  in 
me."  It  is  indeed  a  great  thing  to  be  a  conscientious  man. 
We  can  not  help  respecting  the  man  who  methodically  and 
deliberately  orders  his  life  in  obedience  to  duty  and  the 
vv'ill  of  God.  There  is  even  a  certain  dignity  in  self-com- 
mand, in  a  life  of  repressed  inclinations,  restrained  passions, 
and  actions  uniformly  regulated  by  the  dictates  of  reason 
and  conscience  ;  and  our  sense  of  the  stern  dignity  of  such 
a  life  is,  in  one  point  of  view,  enhanced  by  the  amount  of 
struggle  and  self-discipline  which  it  costs  to  maintain  it. 
And  yet,  dignified  and  praiseworthy  though  such  a  life  be, 
it  is  still  something  far  short  of  that  ideal  of  religion,  and 
of  the  religious  man's  relation  to  God,  which  Cln-ist's  words 
set  before  us.  If  this  were  all,  if  this  were  tlie  true  ideal 
of  religion,  there  would  be  some  ground  for  saying  that  it 
represses  the  spiritual  natui'e,  and  overbears  the  freedom  and 
individuality  of  man.  To  bow  to  any  external  authority, 
even  that  of  an  Almighty  Being,  to  yield  up  ray  will  to  any 
outward  law,  even  though  it  be  that  of  the  Supreme  Ruler 


38  UNION   WITH  GOD.  [sermon  ii. 

and  Lord — that  may  be  right ;  but  what  it  means  is,  that  I 
am  no  longer  free,  that  there  is  a  part  of  my  nature,  that 
there  are  desires,  tendencies,  inclinations,  which  are  simply 
suppressed  in  deference  to  an  external  power.  It  means 
that  Duty  has  still  for  me  the  aspect  of  a  foreign  thing,  a 
law  or  limit  which  I  respect  and  obey,  but  that,  even  in 
conforming  myself  to  it,  there  is  wdthin  me  that  which  is 
not  one  with  it,  another  self  which  is  hindered  and  re- 
pressed. 

But,  my  brethren,  it  is  the  great  idea  which  Christianity 
has  disclosed  to  us,  that  the  law  and  will  of  God  is  no  more 
external  to  our  true  nature  than  it  is  to  the  nature  of  God 
Himself,  and  that  it  is  possible  to  reach,  and  that  then  only 
have  we  attained  to  the  perfection  of  our  being  when  we 
have  reached,  a  spiritual  state,  in  which  the  very  mind  and 
will  of  God  is  no  longer  distinguishable  from  our  own — in 
which  to  think  God's  thoughts  shall  be  to  think  our  own 
thoughts,  and  to  do  God's  will  shall  be  only  another  name 
for  doing  our  own.  When  eternal  truth  discloses  itself  to 
any  mind,  it  dissipates  and  destroys  all  mere  individual 
opinion,  it  subjugates  thought  with  an  absolute  and  irre- 
sistible authority.  Yes,  but  then  only  have  I  attained  to 
the  true  knowledge  of  Divine  things  when  the  voice  that 
speaks  to  me  is  at  the  same  time  that  which  speaks  in  me  ; 
and  it  is  not  two  concurrent  voices,  that  of  a  finite  and  an 
infinite  mind,  that  speak,  but  the  one  indivisible  voice  of 
eternal  reason  sounding  through  the  spirit  of  man.  When 
the  law  of  duty  and  of  righteousness  utters  itself  to  a  hu- 
man spirit,  it  is  with  an  imperative  authoiity  to  which  hu- 
man inclination  and  passion  are  constrained  to  bow.  Yes, 
but  then  only  have  I  attained  to  that  which  deserves  the 
name  of  goodness,  to  that  moral  perfection  of  which  Chi'ist 
is  the  type,  when  law  has  passed  into  life,  when  duty  has 
ceased  to  be  a  thing  of  self-denial,  and  has  become  a  kind 
of  self-indulgence,  the  expression  of  an  irresistible  inward 


CAIRO.]  UNION  WITH  GOD.  39 

impulse,  the  gratification  of  the  deepest  passion  of  the  soul  ; 
then  only  have  I  reached  the  elevation  of  nature  to  which 
Christ  would  exalt  us,  when  I  not  only  hearken  to  the  voice 
of  duty,  but  when,  listening  to  the  inmost  utterances  of  my 
own  spiritual  nature,  it  is  the  very  same  accents  I  hear  ; 
when  the  dictates  of  conscience  not  merely  echo,  but  blend 
themselves  indistinguishably  with,  the  commands  of  the 
living  God  ;  and  when,  as  I  yield  myself  up  to  their  sway, 
it  is  not  two  wills,  but  the  one  will  of  infinite  goodness  that 
rules  and  reigns  within  me.  And  so,  it  is  just  because  our 
deepest  nature  is  in  harmony,  not  with  error  but  with  truth, 
not  with  evil  but  with  good,  not  with  the  lust  of  the  flesh, 
and  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life,  but  with  the 
things  invisible  and  eternal,  with  the  very  spirit  of  God 
himself — it  is  just  because  of  this,  that  to  become  partakers 
of  the  Divine  nature  is  to  come  to  the  perfect  realization  of 
our  own.  Absolute  identification  with  God,  if  we  shall 
ever  attain  to  it,  is  not  a  state  in  which  our  individuality 
shall  be  absorbed  or  annihilated,  but  in  which  our  whole 
conscious  being  shall  leap  forth  to  life  and  freedom.  Even 
here  there  are  moments,  few  and  far  between,  when  the  in- 
finitude of  our  nature  reveals  itself,  when  the  gross  vesture 
of  carnality  and  finitude  seems  to  fall  aside,  and  to  disclose 
in  higher  and  nobler  natures  a  latent  splendor  of  spiritual 
nobleness  nothing  less  than  divine.  When  thought  comes 
with  a  rush  of  inspiration  on  the  mind  of  the  man  of  genius, 
when  the  imagination  glows  with  the  ecstasy  of  creative 
intuition,  and  burning  words  flow  forth  from  lips  touched 
with  prophetic  fire  ;  when  in  moments  congenial  to  spiritual 
thought  and  feeling,  infinite  hopes  and  aspirations  come 
upon  us,  and  bear  us  above  the  pettiness  of  life  and  the 
littleness  of  our  ordinary  motives  and  ambitions,  and  every 
ignoble  thought  is  silenced  and  every  baser  passion  quelled  ; 
when  the  call  for  some  groat  sacrifice  has  arisen,  and  we 
feel  it  in  us  to  respond  to  it,  a  great  impulse  comes  upon 


40  UmON  WITH  GOD.  [sermon  ii. 

us,  a  power  mightier  tlian  of  earth  takes  possession  of  us, 
and  the  heroic  deed  is  done  :  in  these  and  such  like  ex- 
periences there  are  premonitions  of  a  larger,  diviner  life, 
momentary  outflashes  of  an  element  of  boundless  spiritual 
power  within  this  poor  nature  of  ours.  But  here,  alas  ! 
these  are  but  rare  and  transient  visitations.  Here,  in  the 
best  of  us,  union  with  God  is  only  intermittent  and  imper- 
fect. In  the  atmosphere  of  worldly  passion,  amid  the  per- 
turbations of  selfishness,  there  is  much  to  check  the  flow  of 
that  electric  current  that  unites  the  finite  spirit  to  the  in- 
finite, much  to  arrest  the  free  play  of  that  vital  energy  that 
binds  the  members  of  the  spiritual  body  to  each  other  and 
to  the  Head,  But  the  words  of  Christ  point  to  a  time 
when  every  disturbing,  dividing  element  shall  pass  away, 
when  every  mind  shall  be  the  pure  medium  of  the  infinite 
intelligence,  every  heart  shall  throb  in  unison  with  tlie  in- 
finite love,  every  human  consciousness  be  possessed  and 
suffused  by  the  spirit  of  the  living  God.  And  then  shall 
come  at  last  the  fulfillment  of  that  prayer  :  "  That  they  all 
may  be  one  ;  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee.  .  .  . 
I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect 
in  one." 


cuNNiNGUAii.  I  HOMESPUN  EELIGI0I7.  41 


III. 

HOMESPUIST   RELIGION. 

BY    TOK    RET.    JOHN    CCNNISGHAM,    D.  D.,    CKIEFF. 

"  I  have  glorified  thee  on  the  earth  :  I  have  finished  the  work 
which  thou  gavest  me  to  do.  ...  I  liave  manifested  thy  name  unto 
the  men  which  thou  gavest  me  out  of  the  world." — John  xvii,  4,  6. 

This  text  carries  us  back  to  the  time  when  the  Son  of 
Man  was  about  to  finish  his  earthly  career.  He  knew  that 
the  priests,  alarmed  by  his  teaching,  were  plotting  his  de- 
struction ;  and  He  was  already  within  the  shadow  of  the 
cross.  He  had  spoken  to  his  faithful  followers  his  parting 
words  ;  the  language  of  comfort  merged  in  the  language 
of  prayer  ;  and  from  discoursing  with  his  human  brethren 
He  rose  to  communion  with  his  heavenly  Father.  He  had 
come  into  the  world,  Heaven-sent,  wuth  a  work  to  do,  and 
He  had  done  it,  and  now,  calmly  contemplating  his  ap- 
proaching death,  He  was  able  to  say  to  his  Father  :  "  I  have 
glorified  thee  on  the  earth  :  I  have  finished  the  work  which 
thou  gavest  me  to  do." 

What  was  this  God-given  work  which  Jesus  could  now 
say  He  had  finished  ?  I  think  we  have  an  explanation  of 
this  in  the  context  :  "  I  have  glorified  thee  on  the  earth — I 
have  manifested  thy  name."  These  two  things  are  not 
greatly  different.  In  manifesting  God  we  glorify  God  : 
and  therefore  we  may  safely  say  that  the  manifestation  of 
God  was  the  work  which  Jesus  felt  had  been  given  to  him 
to  do,  and  which  He  had  done.     And  what  work  more 


42  nOMESPUN  RELIGION.  [sermon  m. 

truly  grand  tban  to  make  known  God  to  a  people  who  were 
yet  in  great  manner  ignorant  of  him  !  To  give  the  world 
one  new  glimpse  of  God  were  worthy  of  the  noblest  life 
that  was  ever  lived. 

But  how  manifest  God  ?  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory 
of  God  ;  and  the  firmament  sheweth  his  handiwork."  We 
have  but  to  look  to  the  illimitable  universe  for  a  manifes- 
tation— the  grandest  possible  manifestation — of  the  power 
and  wisdom  of  God.  But  it  is  certain  such  a  manifestation 
was  not  enough  for  the  reason  of  man.  Amid  all  the  mar- 
vels of  creation — at  the  base  of  mountains  which  pierced  the 
sky — on  the  shores  of  seas  which  no  plummet  could  fathom 
and  no  vision  embrace — men  were  found  worshiping  their 
own  impure  conceptions  embodied  in  marble  and  stone,  or 
vainly  rearing  altars  to  a  God  they  confessed  to  be  unknown. 
Nature,  thousand-tongued  though  she  be,  had  not  let  out  the 
great  secret  of  God. 

Did  Christ,  then,  come  into  our  world  to  manifest  to  us 
God  as  He  is  ?  Such  a  revelation  had  been  impossible.  In 
one  sense  God  ever  must  be  unknown — unknowable.  The 
finite  can  not  contain  the  infinite.  Stretch  our  faculties  as 
we  may,  we  can  not  comprehend  the  incomprehensible.  We 
can  not  take  within  our  grasp  that  which  is  beyond  all 
grasp,  the  absolute — the  imconditioned — the  great  Being 
who  inhabits  eternity  and  fills  all  space  with  his  presence. 
When  we  make  the  endeavor,  our  feeble  intellect,  bafiled 
and  beat  back,  is  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  it  can 
not  "  by  searching  find  out  God."  Even  in  the  future 
world,  where  we  have  reason  to  believe  our  faculties  will  be 
greatly  enlarged,  our  knowledge  of  Deity  will  still  be  very 
imperfect — I  might  almost  say  infinitely  imperfect — as  the 
finite  can  never  bear  any  relation  at  all  to  the  infinite. 
We  may,  and  no  doubt  shall,  know  much  which  we  do 
not  know  now  ;  we  may  obtain  glimpses  of  his  glory  far 
brighter  than  any  we  have  upon  earth  ;  but  still  we  shall 


CUNNINGHAM.]  HOMESPUN  BELIGION.  43 

never  know  him  as  He  is.  Just  as  this  fair  world  at  pres- 
ent hangs  like  a  mighty  curtain  screening  its  Creator  from 
our  view,  yet  showing  his  shadow  projected  upon  it ;  so  in 
eternity  shall  the  God  of  Heaven  be  manifested  only  through 
the  golden  glories  of  heaven,  and  refuse  to  be  gazed  upon 
with  unveiled  eye,  for  He  must  ever  dwell  amid  light  inac- 
cessible and  full  of  glory  ;  no  mortal  eye  hath  seen  him,  or 
can  see  him. 

The  work  of  Jesus,  then,  was  not  to  manifest  God  in  his 
essence — in  his  infinitude  ;  for  our  nature  was  incapable  of 
such  a  manifestation.  And  while  Philosophy  may  properly 
occupy  hei'self  with  such  lofty  themes,  Religion  is  content 
with  a  lower  walk.  The  question  then  recurs,  How  did  He 
manifest  God  ?  I  answer,  He  made  known  the  moral  char- 
acter of  God.  I  am  aware  that  when  I  thus  speak  I  am 
translating  the  language  of  heaven  into  the  language  of 
earth.  I  am  in  some  measure  likening  God  to  ourselves 
when  I  speak  of  his  moral  character,  but  it  is  not  given  to 
man  otherwise  to  think  of  or  otherwise  to  speak  of  the 
heavenly  and  divine.  God  in  some  way  must  be  brought 
down  to  us,  as  we  can  not  possibly  lift  ourselves  up  to  God. 
Now,  it  is  certain  that  men  had  for  long  ages  puzzled  them- 
selves in  vain  about  the  moral  nature  of  the  Deity,  and 
hence  the  contradictory  attributes  ascribed  to  their  idol 
gods.  Sometimes  they  ascribed  to  these  the  purest  benevo- 
lence, sometimes  the  most  malignant  cruelty  ;  sometimes 
they  spoke  of  them  as  exemplars  of  justice  and  truth,  some- 
times they  described  them  as  perpetrating  deeds  so  foul 
that  even  modern  vice  would  cry  shame  upon  them.  Now, 
it  is  plain  that,  though  we  can  not  know  God  in  all  his  infini- 
tude, we  may  know  whether  He  is  kind  or  cruel — whether 
He  is  pure  or  impure— whether  He  is  spiritual  and  tran- 
scends all  sense,  or  is  material,  and  may  be  shrined  in  a 
temple  and  sculptured  in  stone.  To  make  this  known  to 
the  world  was  the  mission  of  Jesus. 


44  H03IESPUN  RELIGION.  [sermon  hi. 

Jesus  Christ,  in  his  own  person  and  character,  was  a 
manifestation  of  God.  He  was  a  visible  image  of  Him  who 
is  invisible.  Every  man  is  in  a  sense  made  in  the  likeness 
of  his  heavenly  Father,  in  so  far  as  he  is  endowed  with 
Godlike  faculties  ;  but  that  likeness  is  too  often  marred  by 
sin,  and  sometimes  in  the  face  of  a  fellow-creature  w^e  see 
not  the  countenance  of  a  God  but  the  features  of  a  devil. 
But  Jesus  of  Nazareth  Avas  altogether  Divine.  We  must 
trace  his  life  to  see  this. 

His  life  divides  itself  into  two  quite  distinct  portions — 
his  private  life,  which  extends  over  thii'ty  years,  and  his 
public  life,  which  probably  did  not  last  more  than  three 
years. 

Let  us  try  and  lift  the  veil  which  hangs  over  the  thirty 
years  when  He  was  slowly  being  matured  for  his  future 
work.  We  have  several  Gosj^els  of  the  childhood  of  Jesus, 
stuffed  with  silly  legends  as  to  how  He  resuscitated  a  dead 
bird  and  carried  water  in  a  sieve,  and  ever  and  anon  aston- 
ished his  playmates  by  his  miracles  ;  but  we  know  that 
these  Gospels  are  spurious — they  carry  their  falsehood  on 
their  face.  There  is  nothing  divine  in  such  stories  as  these. 
We  can  believe,  however,  that  He  was  a  marvelously  pre- 
cocious boy,  and  that  notwithstanding  his  precocity  He  was 
subject  to  his  parents.  We  have  reason,  moreover,  to  be- 
lieve that  He  was  brought  up  in  the  bosom  of  a  family — 
with  younger  brothers  and  sisters  ;  for  the  legends  of  the 
Roman  Church  on  this  subject  are  not  only  groundless,  but 
opposed  to  the  Gospel  narrative,  and  are  designed  to  sub- 
stitute false  virginity  and  sour  asceticism  for  home-bred 
piety.  Here,  then,  is  the  first  stage  in  the  life  of  Jesus — a 
child  among  children.  But  are  not  the  innocence  and  hap- 
piness of  childhood  emblematical  of  the  heavenly  and  di- 
vine ? 

He  slowly  grew  from  infancy  to  boyhood,  from  boyhood 
to  manhood,  just  as  we  do.     And  as  He  grew  in  stature 


ccNNiNGHAM.]  HOMESPUN  RELIGION.  45 

He  increased  in  wisdom  and  in  all  goodness.  All  his  fel- 
low-villagers knew  him,  and  all  loved  him.  There  is  reason 
to  believe  that  He  worked  at  his  father's  trade  of  a  carpen- 
ter, and  by  making  the  rude  implements  of  husbandry 
helped  to  support  the  household.  He  must  have  lived  just 
such  a  life  as  any  mechanic  of  the  present  day  lives — mak- 
ing allowance  for  the  change  of  times.  But  He  was  hum- 
ble, industrious,  and  content — content  to  do  his  daily  work, 
to  eat  his  humble  fare,  to  remain  in  obscurity,  notwith- 
standing that  He  must  have  been  conscious  of  the  great  ca- 
pabilities which  were  slumbering  within  him.  And  was 
not  Jesus  of  Nazareth  as  truly  divine  and  as  truly  doing  his 
Father's  work  when  He  thus  lived  a  village  workman  as 
when  He  afterward  blazed  upon  the  world  as  a  religious 
reformer  ?  And  are  not  these  thirty  years  full  of  meaning 
to  those  myriads,  in  all  countries  and  in  all  times,  who  must 
live  in  obscurity  and  earn  their  daily  bread  by  their  daily 
toil  ?  This  life  at  Nazareth,  suffused  with  artisan  religion, 
the  religion  of  industry,  honesty,  truthfulness,  devotion, 
had  no  trace  of  what  is  usually  deemed  heroical.  No  inci- 
dent was  worth  i-ecording.  It  was  the  ordinary  life  of  a 
workingman.  No  doubt,  on  the  one  side  it  was  altogether 
divine,  but  on  the  other  it  was  very  human  and  very  home- 
ly. Thus  the  second  stage  in  this  great  life  was  that  of  a 
village  workman. 

When  He  was  thirty  years  of  age,  this  village  carpenter 
appeared  before  his  countrymen  as  a  prophet.  He  had  heard 
the  heavenly  call  within  him,  and  He  had  obeyed  it.  He 
summoned  his  compeers  to  repentance,  declaring  that  the 
kingdom  of  God  was  at  hand.  He  spoke  to  them  of  a  high- 
er religion  than  their  ancestral  one,  which,  though  once  full 
of  life,  was  now  sapless  and  fruitless,  and  wellnigh  dead. 
The  fierce  light  of  public  notoriety  now  shone  upon  him 
wherever  He  went.  But  in  many  respects  He  lived  the 
same  calm  life  which  He  had  lived  at  Nazareth.    There  was 


46  HOMESPUN  RELIGION.  [serhox  hi. 

nothing  overstrained,  nothing  sensational,  in  anything  He 
did.  His  four  biographies  have,  of  course,  an  Eastern  col- 
oring, but  we  clearly  learn  from  them  that  He  was  not 
proud  and  domineering,  but  meek  and  lowly — willing  to 
help  all,  heal  all,  save  all.  His  whole  life  indeed  was  a  life 
of  earnest,  useful,  unselfish  work,  but  at  the  same  time  it  was 
not  devoid  of  geniality  and  sociability,  of  private  friend- 
ships and  homespun  virtues.  He  had  his  friends,  both 
male  and  female,  whom  He  loved  and  by  whom  He  was 
loved  in  return.  He  went  to  marriage-feasts  and  dinner- 
parties, and  had  his  quiet  evenings  with  Lazarus  and  Martha 
and  Mary  at  Bethany. 

How  different  this  life  from  the  legendary  lives  of  the 
saints,  with  their  asceticism,  their  ecstasies,  and  their  artifi- 
cial piety  !  How  different  from  the  mawkish  biographies 
of  some  modern  divines,  who  Avould  appear  from  tlieir  dia- 
ries to  have  lived  far  above  the  low  level  of  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments ! 

In  such  a  life  was  there  not  a  manifestation  of  God  ? 
Without  accepting  the  pantheistic  idea  that  Deity  is  visible 
everywhere  and  in  all  things — that  He  shines  in  the  ruby, 
lives  in  the  plant,  and  awakens  into  consciousness  in  man — 
we  may  safely  say  that  in  all  human  goodness  there  is  a 
manifestation  of  Divine  goodness. 

But  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  by  his  teaching  as  well  as  by  his 
life,  did  much  to  manifest  God.  He  emphatically  declared 
his  spirituality.  The  idea  was  not  altogether  new,  but  in 
every  religious  system  of  the  then  world  it  was  forgotten. 
And,  having  declared  that  God  was  a  spirit,  He  drew  from 
it  the  inevitable  inference  that  all  true  worship  must  be 
spiritual,  and  thus  revolutionized  the  religions  of  the  world. 
All  places  and  all  times  are  alike  holy.  On  Mount  Gerizim  or 
Mount  Moriah,  in  mosque  or  cathedral  or  meeting-house,  by 
the  fireside  or  in  the  field,  on  Saturday  or  on  Sunday,  there 
may  be  worship  in  spirit  and  in  truth  of  the  spiritual  God. 


CUNNINGHAM.]  IWMESPUX  BELIGION.  47 

Every  aspiration  after  goodness  is  worsliip.  Thus  in  the 
words  of  Jesus  as  He  sat  thirsty  and  weary  by  Jacob's  well, 
and  conversed  with  the  Samaritan  woman  who  had  come 
there  with  her  pitcher  to  draw  water,  we  get  a  view  of 
Divinity  from  which  all  the  world  might  learn  something  ; 
and  we  see  no  national  Deity,  no  sectarian  God,  but  the 
universal  Spirit,  the  common  Father  of  all  mankind.  The 
Gentile  idea  of  God  was  grievously  wrong.  The  Jewish 
idea  was  in  some  respects  almost  as  far  from  the  truth  ;  but 
the  Jewish  and  the  Gentile  ideas  wei'e  alike  corrected  in  the 
sublime  virtues  and  blessed  lessons  of  Jesus  the  Saviour. 

While  Jesus  was  yet  a  boy  He  began  his  work,  and 
never  afterward  did  He  flag  in  it.  Even  when  He  was 
working  at  his  father's  trade,  as  I  have  already  said,  He 
was  also  working  the  work  of  God.  And  so,  when  death 
overtook  him,  though  it  came  early  and  came  suddenly,  it 
did  not  find  him  with  his  work  only  half  done.  At  the 
early  age  of  thirty-three,  when  most  men  are  only  begin- 
ning to  think  seriously  and  work  hard,  his  work  was  fin- 
ished, and  when  He  expired  on  the  cross  He  could  utter 
the  significant  words,  "It  is  finished." 

Thus  I  have  shown  you  how  Jesus  had  a  work  to  do, 
and  how  He  did  it.  But  the  most  important — because  the 
most  practical — part  of  my  discourse  remains,  for  I  have 
yet  to  show  that  every  Christian,  like  the  Christ,  has  a 
God-given  work  to  do. 

It  were  well  if  every  man  realized  the  truth  that  he  has 
a  work  to  do  in  this  world — that  he  is  not  meant  to  be,  that 
he  must  not  be,  an  idler  in  this  busy  hive  ;  and  it  were 
better  still  if  every  man  felt  that  his  special  work  is  as- 
signed him  by  God. 

The  lots  of  men  are  very  various.  Some  are  born  in  the 
lap  of  opulence,  and  grow  up  in  the  midst  of  luxury,  and 
have  all  their  wishes  anticipated  and  all  their  wants  sup- 
plied by  the  ministry  of  others,  without  any  exertion  on 


48  HOMESPUN  BELIGION.  [sermon  hi. 

their  own  part.  Others  are  bred  amid  severe  poverty,  and 
their  horny  hands  tell  how  hard  is  the  toil  by  which,  day 
after  day,  they  gain  their  daily  bread.  But  however  dif- 
ferent the  spheres  in  which  men  move,  and  however  wide 
their  callings  and  their  culture,  all  are  alike  required  to  be 
workmen  for  God. 

Bear  in  mind  that,  whatever  the  work  is  you  have  to  do, 
that  work  is  given  you  by  God.  Are  you  a  shopman  ? 
Well,  behind  your  counter  sell  your  goods,  and  do  your 
work  as  if  it  were  God's  work.  Are  you  a  lawyer  ?  "Well, 
work  on  in  love  to  the  great  Lawgiver,  defend  the  right 
and  defeat  the  wrong,  remembering  that  your  calling  is 
divine.  Are  you  a  laborer  ?  a  plowman  ?  a  weaver  ? 
Well,  steadily  use  your  shovel — merrily  drive  your  horses 
to  the  field — cheerily  make  your  shuttle  fly  till  the  pattern 
stands  out  before  you  in  the  web,  remembering  that  you 
are  engaged  in  a  Heaven-appointed  task.  You  have  a  Mas- 
ter in  heaven.  If  it  were  so,  would  not  all  trickery  disappear 
from  trade,  all  quirks  and  quibbles  from  the  law,  all  eye- 
service,  all  unfaithfulness,  all  discontent,  from  the  ranks  of 
the  laboring  population  !  Depend  upon  it  we  in  general 
take  too  low  a  view  of  our  calling.  We  look  upon  our 
labor  as  merely  drudgery  :  well,  it  may  be  so,  but  it  is  a 
divine  drudgery.  While  we  work  we  are  doing  good — 
and  everything  that  is  good  is  Godlike.  Such  a  conception 
as  this  ennobles  the  meanest  toil,  and  raises  the  i:)oorest 
mechanic,  the  humblest  tiller  of  the  soil,  into  a  servant  of 
Almighty  God. 

I  am  afraid  that  some  men — even  good  men — are  dis- 
contented with  their  lot,  and  fancy  that  they  are  piously 
and  properly  discontented.  They  think  they  could  do  God's 
work  better  if  their  lot  had  been  different.  They  think, 
perhaps,  that  an  occupation  so  menial  as  theirs  can  not  pos- 
sibly be  the  work  of  God.  How  can  the  loom,  they  may 
say,  be  connected  with  religion  ?     How  can  a  man  by  break- 


cuiramoiiAM.]  HOMESPUN  RELIGION.  49 

ing  stones  on  the  roadside  be  promoting  the  glory  of  God  ? 
The  poor  man  wishes  he  were  rich,  just  that  he  might  em- 
ploy his  wealth  in  the  promotion  of  piety.  My  dear  friend, 
let  me  ask  you,  If  liberality  be  the  virtue  of  wealth,  are 
there  no  virtues  peculiar  to  poverty  ?  and  were  it  not  better 
for  you  to  cultivate  the  virtues  of  the  station  which  God 
has  assigned  to  you,  than  vainly  to  pine  after  another  sta- 
tion which  never  can  be  yours  ?  The  pious  layman  perhaps 
laments  that  his  lips  are  sealed  in  silence,  and  that  he  can 
not,  as  from  the  house-top,  proclaim  the  praises  of  God  ; 
and  accordingly  he  wishes  he  were  a  missionary,  that  he 
might  publish  to  darkened  idolaters  the  glad  tidings  of 
salvation  ;  or  at  least  that  he  were  a  minister  of  the  gospel, 
that  from  the  pulj^it  he  might  fulminate  the  thunders  of 
Sinai,  or  speak  in  the  softly  persuasive  whisj^ers  that  come 
from  Calvary.  My  good  friend,  you  err,  not  knowing  the 
gospel.  Your  work  is  as  divinely  appointed  as  mine  :  and 
your  duty  is  to  do  it — to  do  it  religiously  and  well.  I  know 
that  some  people  foolishly  think  that  clergymen  alone  are 
the  servants  of  God — that  their  callingr  alone  is  divine — 
that  they  only,  and  such  as  they,  promote  the  glory  of  God. 
My  friends,  I  tell  you  that  I  believe  that  many  a  poor 
artisan  who  industriously  and  ungrumblingly  plies  his 
trade,  that  he  may  honestly  support  a  wife  and  family,  or 
that  he  may  keep  an  aged  parent  from  the  parish,  is  more 
effectually  promoting  God's  glory  than  many  a  pompous 
preacher  of  the  Word.  There  is  an  eloquence  in  the  pious 
resignation,  the  contented  looks,  the  busy  fingers  of  the 
one,  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  all  the  bombast  of  the 
other  ;  and  no  man  of  this  kind  can  calculate  the  influence 
for  goodness  and  for  God  which  he  may  exercise  on  society. 
I  know  nothing  which  has  exercised  a  more  pernicious 
influence  on  religion  than  that  unhappy  divorce  which  has 
been  effected  between  religious  duty  and  the  e very-day 
duties  of  life.  When  a  mother  is  faithfully  tending  her 
3 


50  HOMESPUN  RELIGION.  [sermon  hi, 

children,  and  making  her  hearthstone  clean  and  her  fire 
burn  bright,  that  everything  may  smile  a  welcome  to  her 
weary  husband  when  he  returns  from  his  work,  it  is  never 
dreamed  that  she  is  religiously  employed.  When  a  man 
works  hard  during  the  day,  and  returns  to  his  family  in  the 
evening  to  make  them  all  happy  by  his  placid  temper  and 
quiet  jokes  and  dandlings  on  his  knee,  the  world  does  not 
think — perhaps  he  does  not  think  himself — that  there  is 
religion  in  anything  so  common  as  this.  Religion  is  sup- 
posed to  stand  aloof  from  such  familiar  scenes.  But  to 
attend  the  church,  to  take  the  Sacrament,  to  sing  a  psalm, 
to  say  a  prayer,  is  religion.  Now  God  help  this  poor  sinful 
world  if  religion  consists  only  in  these  things  and  not  also 
in  the  other  !  We  have  devotional  feelings,  and  by  all 
means  let  us  give  them  exercise  and  utterance  ;  but  have 
we  not  other  feelings  and  other  duties  as  certainly  as  these 
assigned  us  by  Heaven?  Why  should  we  count  the  one 
religious  and  not  also  the  other  ?  Is  Religion  to  be  shut  up 
in  the  church,  and  not  allowed  to  visit  the  house  ?  Is  she 
to  attend  us  only  when  we  sit  at  the  Communion-table,  and 
not  also  when  we  stand  at  our  counter  or  sit  at  our  desk  ? 
Why  should  we  not  think  that  everything  we  do  is  done 
religiously  if  it  be  done  well  ? 

I  think  I  have  known  some  people  who  have  thus  in- 
troduced religion  into  their  every-day  life.  In  the  station 
in  which  they  were,  therein  they  abode  with  God.  They 
were  ever  so  honest,  so  industrious,  so  cheerful,  so  unrepin- 
ing,  so  courteous  to  man,  and  so  devout  to  God,  that  you 
could  not  but  feel  they  were  living  that  life  of  which  oth- 
ers were  merely  talking.  They  were  indeed  living  epistles 
of  Christianity,  known  and  read  of  all  men. 

Some  men  may  think  I  have  thus  secularized  religion. 
On  the  contrary,  I  have  wished  to  sanctify  and  make  reli- 
gious that  which  is  usually  regarded  as  secular.  "That 
which  God  hath  cleansed  call  not  thou  common  or  unclean." 


cuNOTNGUAii.J  HOMESPUN  RELIGION.  51 

I  wish  religion  to  tinge  everything  with  its  own  divine  hues  : 
and  that  whether  we  eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  we  do,  we 
should  do  it  to  the  glory  of  God.  I  wish  every  man  to  feel 
that  whatever  work  he  has  in  hand  he  is  therein  God's  work- 
man. I  wish  that  as  the  sun  bathes  with  his  light  not 
merely  the  mountain  and  the  plain,  but  the  tiniest  plant 
that  grows  in  the  crevice  of  the  rock,  that  as  he  shines  not 
merely  upon  the  carved  cathedral,  but  upon  the  cottage 
home,  so  it  should  be  believed  and  felt  that  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  illuminates  with  its  soft  radiance  everything 
it  shines  upon,  giving  it  the  highest  of  all  consecrations. 

The  work  of  the  Christian  is  not  really  different  from 
the  work  of  the  Christ.  Every  man  has  his  mission,  and  it 
is  to  manifest  God.  Moving  in  different  spheres,  with  dif- 
ferent tasks  assigned  us,  we  may  be  called  to  do  our  work 
in  different  ways  ;  but  still  this  is  our  work.  Every  man 
should  be,  in  his  own  person  and  character,  like  the  Christ, 
a  manifestation  of  God.  The  more  virtuous,  the  more  ac- 
tively benevolent,  the  more  zealous  for  all  good  we  become, 
the  more  we  manifest  God.  By  discharging  the  duties  of 
our  station,  or  by  honestly  struggling  to  rise  to  a  higher 
one,  we  perform  our  Heaven-allotted  task,  and  so  manifest 
God.  In  short,  by  living  like  Jesus  and  dying  like  Jesus, 
we  manifest  God.  God,  the  all-good,  shines  out  in  every 
good  word  that  is  spoken  and  in  every  good  work  that  is 
done. 

Last  of  all,  let  me  remind  you  that  "  life  is  short  and 
time  is  fleeting."  "  Whatsoever  therefore  your  hand  find- 
eth  to  do,  do  it  with  all  your  might."  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
according  to  tradition,  died  while  still  a  young  man,  but 
before  he  died  he  felt  that  his  work  was  done.  How  few 
at  the  early  age  of  thirty-three  have  well  begun  their  God- 
given  work  !  How  many  with  gray  hairs  on  their  heads 
are  carried  to  the  grave  with  their  work  but  half  done  !  I 
believe  it  often  forms  one  of  the  bitterest  elements  in  the 


52  HOMESPUN  RELIGION.  [sermon  m. 

cup  of  death  that  life  has  been  wasted  and  opportunities  of 
doing  good  allowed  to  slip  past,  and  when  the  end  comes 
nothing  either  great  or  good  has  been  accomplished.  It  is 
a  terrible  thing  to  look  back  upon  an  utterly  lost  life.  And 
why  should  it  be  so  with  any  of  you  ?  All  of  you  may  live 
useful  lives.  Many  of  you  might  live  noble  lives  ;  some  of 
you  might  leave  your  mark  behind  you,  and  live  a  second 
life  in  the  grateful  memories  of  men.  Remember  there 
may  be  true  goodness,  and  even  true  greatness — a  mani- 
festation of  all  that  is  most  divine — in  the  discharge  of  the 
humblest  duties,  in  the  most  obscure  station,  as  well  as  in 
playing  a  grand  part  with  the  eyes  of  the  world  fixed  upon 
you.  How  much  to  be  envied  the  man  who,  when  approach- 
ing the  close  of  a  well-spent  life,  feels  that  he  has  at  least 
done  some  good  in  his  day,  and  thus  that  he  has  so  far  ful- 
filled his  mission,  even  though  he  may  not  have  altogether 
finished  the  work  which  his  Father  had  given  him  to  do  ! 


cnwrncHAM.]  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  53 


lY. 
THE  EELIGION  OF  LOVE. 

BY    THE   RET.  JOHN    CUNNINGHAM,  D.  D.,  CRIEFF. 

"  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us." — 2  Corinthians  v,  14. 

"  The  love  of  Christ  constrains  us  " — to  wliat?  To  live 
not  to  ourselves,  but  to  him  who  died  for  us.  In  other 
words,  constrained  by  the  love  of  Christ,  and  taught  by  the 
self-sacrifice  of  Christ,  we  ought  to  live  unselfish  lives.  A 
consecrated  love  should  be  our  motive,  a  Christian  life  should 
be  our  end. 

I  need  not  proclaim  to  you  the  old  moral  maxim,  that 
merit  is  to  be  sought  for  in  men's  motives  rather  than  in 
their  outward  acts  ;  and  hence  the  necessity,  when  judging 
of  ourselves  or  others,  of  looking  closely  to  the  mainsprings 
of  their  conduct.  Thus,  supposing  we  live  uprightly,  what 
is  it  that  leads  us  to  do  so  ?  Is  it  the  fear  of  punishment, 
or  the  hope  of  reward  ? — is  it  the  pure  love  of  uprightness 
itself,  or  the  love  of  that  holy  Being  who  enjoins  us  to  up- 
rightness ?  Supposing  you  say  the  former,  then  I  ask,  Can 
there  be  any  merit  in  motives  so  thoroughly  selfish  ?  Sup- 
posing you  say  the  latter,  then  I  ask.  Is  it  possible  for  a  crea- 
ture constituted  like  man  to  love  virtue  for  itself  or  God  for 
himself  ?  It  is  important  for  us  as  Christians  to  know  these 
things,  for  Christianity  consists  as  much  in  a  well-ordered 
life  as  in  an  orthodox  creed,  perhaps  more  so.  If  it  preaches 
faith,  it  also  insists  on  good  Avorks.     It  involves  a  law  to  be 


54  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  [sermon  iv. 

obeyed  as  well  as  a  gospel  to  be  believed  ;  and  it  seems  to 
set  before  us  a  variety  of  stimulants  to  obedience — the  hope 
of  heaven,  the  fear  of  hell,  and  love  in  its  multiform  out- 
goings both  toward  God  and  man.  Well,  let  me  take  it  for 
granted  that  you  are  all  living  reputable  lives,  or,  better 
still,  active,  useful  lives  :  it  is  so  far  good  ;  but  behind 
that  there  is  the  question.  What  are  the  feelings  which 
influence  you  to  do  so  ?  Are  they  the  feelings  which  the 
gospel  sanctions  and  commends  ?  That  is  the  question 
which  I  wish  to  press  home  upon  you. 

Different  men  may  do  the  same  thing  from  very  differ- 
ent motives  ;  but  I  think  that  all  human  motives  may  be 
reduced  under  two  heads — the  love  of  self  or  the  love  of 
another.  In  other  Avords,  there  may  be  a  selfish  virtu.e  or 
a  disinterested  virtue.  Which  of  these  does  Christianity 
teach  and  exact  ?  Let  us  examine  a  little  more  closely 
these  two  great  springs  of  human  conduct. 

I.  We  may  do  right  from  self-love. 

In  this  sphere  our  selfishness  may  be  so  disguised  as  to 
be  hardly  recognizable,  even  by  ourselves.  Indeed,  so  sub- 
tile is  selfishness  that  it  enters  into  almost  every  feeling  of 
the  mind,  and  in  many  cases  it  is  only  the  very  nicest  analy- 
sis that  can  detect  its  presence.  We  may  therefore  quite 
honestly  deceive  ourselves  and  others  in  this  matter,  and 
imagine  we  are  acting  quite  disinterestedly,  while  in  reality 
our  own  interest  lies  at  the  bottom  of  our  heart,  and 
prompts  our  behavior.  The  two  great  springs  of  action 
traceable  to  self-love  are  the  hope  of  rewai'd  and  the  fear 
of  punishment.  Every  reflecting  person  will  at  once  dis- 
cern how  much  of  our  conduct  takes  its  rise  from  one  or 
other  of  these  two  principles.  Hope  and  fear  are  among 
the  most  powerful  feelings  of  our  nature  ;  and,  acting  in 
opposite  directions,  as  they  generally  do,  they  lead  to  a  be- 
havior in  Avhich  the  influence  of  both  is  to  be  seen,  like 
those  compound  motions,  the  result  of  equal  and  opposing 


CUNNINGHAM.]  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  55 

mechanical  forces.     How  much  do  we  do  from  the  hope  of 
reward  !     How  much  do  we  not-do  from  the  dread  of  pun 
ishment !     How   steadily   are   we   thus   preserved   in    the 
straight  path  of  duty  from  the  pressure  on  the  one  side  and 
the  othe¥  of  these  two  powers  ! 

I  need  hardly  say  that  human  laws  are  framed  with  a 
reference  to  human  fears,  and  that  from  this  they  derive 
their  effectiveness.  To  every  law  there  is  annexed  a  pen- 
alty. The  statute-book  does  not  simply  say,  like  the  Deca- 
logue, Thou  shalt  not  steal ;  but  it  says.  If  you  do  steal, 
the  detective  will  deliver  you  to  the  judge,  and  the  judge  to 
the  jailer,  and  he  will  cast  you  into  prison,  and  you  shall  not 
get  out  thence  till  you  have  paid  the  forfeit  of  your  crime. 
We  know  that  if  we  rob  our  neighbor's  house,  or  assault 
our  neighbor's  person,  or  slander  our  neighbor's  good  name, 
or  in  any  other  way  disturb  the  peace  of  society  and  vio- 
late the  letter  of  the  law,  we  must  pay  the  penalty.  The 
fear  thus  inspired  operates  like  a  charm.  It  pervades  the 
whole  mass  of  society  :  though  unseen,  it  is  felt ;  and  even 
when  scarcely  consciously  felt  its  influence  is  active,  like 
some  of  those  subtile  agencies  in  the  atmosphei*e  which  sur- 
rounds us,  which  tell  upon '  our  happiness,  our  health,  and 
our  life,  though  we  are  altogether  unaware  of  their  exist- 
ence. It  makes  the  thief  honest,  the  slanderer  silent,  the 
turbulent  peaceful.  We  are  virtuous  by  compulsion.  We 
do  good  because  we  dare  not  do  evil. 

While  the  legislature  docs  not  in  general  attach  a  posi- 
tive promise  of  reward  to  obedience,  yet  society  is  so  con- 
stituted that  respect  for  law  almost  always  meets  its  reward 
in  some  shape  or  other.  Every  man  knows  that  the  only 
way  to  get  on  in  the  world,  to  receive  employment,  to  ob- 
tain promotion,  to  rise  to  a  higher  place  in  society,  is  to  be 
scrupulously  observant  of  the  requirements  of  justice  and 
truth.  No  one  will  employ  or  promote  an  unfaithful  ser- 
vant ;  no  one  will  trade  with  a  dishonest  dealer  ;  no  one  will 


56  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  [sekmon  iv. 

trust  the  man  whose  character  is  bankrupt.  It  is  impossible 
to  calculate  how  powerfully  this  operates  upon  the  whole 
community,  reaching  to  every  member  of  it,  as  the  force 
of  gravitation  reaches  to  every  atom  of  the  system.  Every 
man  is,  less  or  more,  anxious  to  make  headway  in  the  world. 
The  workman  is  accordingly  anxious  for  employment,  the 
shopkeeper  for  custom,  the  agent  for  consignments,  and 
each  of  these  knows  perfectly  well  that,  if  he  in  any  way 
forfeit  the  confidence  of  the  public,  yea,  if  but  the  breath 
of  suspicion  blow  upon  his  name,  his  chances  are  gone  and 
he  is  a  doomed  man.  This,  then,  equally  with  the  dread  of 
punishment,  keeps  men  true  to  society,  for  they  know  that 
to  be  true  to  society  is  to  be  true  to  themselves. 

It  may  not  be  denied  that  many  of  the  religious  duties 
are  performed  under  the  same  pressure.  We  live  in  a  coun- 
try and  an  age  in  which  great  respect  is  paid  to  religion 
and  its  observances.  Notwithstanding  the  destructive  specu- 
lations with  which  the  air  is  filled,  religion  has  not  yet  lost 
its  hold  on  the  popular  mind  ;  and  accordingly  a  man  with 
a  character  tinged,  to  some  extent  at  any  rate,  with  re- 
ligion, all  other  things  being  equal,  has  a  better  chance  of 
employment  and  promotion  than  the  man  who  is  notoriously 
irreligious.  The  truth  is,  we  still  like  to  see  a  man,  with 
his  wife  and  family,  seated  every  Sunday  in  his  pew  in  the 
church,  cleanly  clad,  respectful,  and  devout.  We  are  apt 
to  say.  That  is  a  decent  and  deserving  man.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  is,  in  most  quarters,  a  strong  dislike  of  infidel 
opinions  and  an  irreligious  life.  Your  serious  thinking 
people  can  not  help  suspecting  the  very  honesty  of  the  man 
who  never  enters  the  church,  never  takes  the  Sacrament, 
and  otherwise  openly  disregards  the  duties  and  the  decencies 
of  a  Christian  life.  However  well  he  looks,  it  is  whispered 
that  he  is  a  scoundrel  in  disguise  ;  being  neglectful  of  re- 
ligion, he  may  tamper  with  morality  ;  seeing  he  does  not 
fear  God,  he  very  probably  will  not  regard  man  ;  and  there- 


ccNNmoHAM.]  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  57 

fore  he  is  by  no  means  to  be  taken  by  the  hand  and  helped 
on.  He  is  rather  to  be  left  to  rot  in  his  irreligion.  Opinion 
rules  the  world,  and  this  opinion,  deep-rooted  and  wide- 
spread, has  an  undoubted  influence  in  creating  an  outward 
respect  at  least  for  religious  observances.  Many  are  pious, 
in  short,  or  apparently  so,  just  because  piety  is  a  passport 
to  respect.  It  requires  only  a  very  slight  acquaintance  with 
society  to  know  how  much  affected  religion  there  is  in  the 
world,  and  how  powerfully  even  fashion  tells  upon  the 
Church. 

It  is  probable  that  many  of  whom  these  things  are  true 
are  all  unconscious  of  it  themselves,  and  would  be  honestly 
indignant  if  you  charged  them  with  anything  like  self-seek- 
ing or  hypocrisy.  Few  men  act  under  the  influence  of  only 
one  guiding  principle,  or  one  dominating  passion.  A  mul- 
titude of  motives — sometimes  apparently  opposing  motives 
— combine  to  constitute  and  give  color  to  conduct,  and  often, 
under  the  motives  which  are  uppermost  in  the  mind,  there 
are  others  which  lie  buried  alive  in  its  lowest  depths.  As 
in  material,  so  in  mental  chemistry,  there  are  startling  com- 
binations with  still  more  startling  results.  But  no  man  is 
a  good  analyst  of  self.  He  does  not  care  to  cast  his  inmost 
thoughts  into  any  crucible.  But,  though  we  shut  our  eyes 
to  the  fact,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  selfishness,  in  one 
shape  or  another,  forms  the  basis  of  many  of  the  virtues 
and  of  much  of  the  piety  which  pass  current  in  the  world. 
We  can  only  hope  that  it  loses  something  of  its  native  odi- 
ousness  when  it  passes  into  these  new  forms,  as  we  can  not 
detect  the  presence  of  tar  in  the  glorious  dyes  which  are 
extracted  from  it. 

But  is  there  no  source  of  human  conduct  apart  from 
selfishness  ?  Are  there  no  virtues  wholly  dissevered  in  root 
and  branch  from  the  vices  ?  Is  there  no  piety  here  below 
but  such  as  is  adulterated  with  worldliness  ?  I  think  there 
is,  and  this  leads  me — 


58  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  [sermon  iv. 

II.  To  investigate  the  other  mainspring  of  human  con- 
duct— disinterested  love. 

I  think  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  love — love  not  for 
self  but  for  others — is  a  powerful  propeller  and  regulator 
of  human  conduct.  Some  have  indeed  attempted  to  reduce 
all  love  into  selfishness.  I  can  not  at  present  examine  these 
theories  ;  suffice  it  to  say,  I  do  not  believe  them,  and  pro- 
ceed upon  the  supposition,  surely  not  a  very  unwarrantable 
one,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  disinterested  love  in  the 
world.  I  care  not  whether  it  be  instinctive  or  not ;  it  is 
there,  and,  wherever  it  is,  it  is  beautiful  and  good.  I  have 
hitherto  spoken  of  the  hope  of  reward  and  the  fear  of  pun- 
ishment as  two  powerful  incentives  to  a  virtuous  behavior. 
But  is  there  no  other  ?  Can  you  think  of  no  other  ?  For 
instance,  are  none  kept  in  the  straight  path  of  purity  and 
rectitude,  because  they  know  that  any  deviation  from  it 
would  grieve  and  distress  those  whom  they  love?  Are 
there  not  many  who  would  rather  do  anything  and  suffer 
anything  than  cause  a  pang  to  a  parent's  heart  ?  Are  there 
not  some  who  have  been  kept  back  from  crime  just  by  this 
consideration  ?  I  think  I  do  no  wrong  to  society  when  I  say 
there  are  multitudes  of  young  men,  and  young  women  too, 
who  have  no  great  regard  for  virtue  for  its  own  sake,  who 
yet  are  virtuous,  and  that  just  because  they  would  not  by 
any  conduct  of  theirs  sully  the  sanctities  of  the  old  home- 
love.  I  believe  that  many  a  young  man  sent  foi'th  from  the 
parental  roof  to  push  his  way  in  the  world,  amid  the  blan- 
dishments of  city  life,  has  been  kept  sober,  chaste,  honest, 
only  by  the  constraining  love  of  those  whom  he  left  behind. 
God  forbid  that  he  should  do  anything  that  would  make 
a  sister  blush,  or  a  father  avoid  the  mention  of  his  name  ! 
He  could  be  dissipated  and  reckless,  and  content  to  ruin 
himself,  if  it  were  not  for  this  ;  but  this  he  could  not  bear. 
And,  my  friends,  if  a  member  of  a  family  has  fallen,  if  a 
son  has  brought  a  blot  upon  his  honesty,  or  if  a  daughter 


CUNNINGHAM.]  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  59 

has  brought  suspicion  on  her  honor,  what  is  the  most  burn- 
ing, maddening  thought  that  fills  her  brain  ?  It  is  not  so 
much  her  own  loss  of  innocence  and  peace  as  the  thought 
of  brothers,  sisters,  parents  disgraced  and  grieved  by  her 
misconduct.  What  will  they  think  ?  How  will  they  feel  ? 
HoAV  will  she  be  able  to  look  them  in  the  face  ?  It  is  the 
love  she  bears  to  them,  and  the  love  she  knows  they  bear  to 
her,  that  makes  her  anguish  intolerable.  Affection  itself 
becomes  the  avenger  of  her  crime,  and  perhaps  the  very  for- 
giveness it  exhibits,  and  the  caresses  it  bestows,  and  the  re- 
newed sacrifices  it  is  willing  to  make,  render  her  soul's  agony 
all  the  more  acute.  Thus  does  love  stand  as  the  guardian 
of  morals,  and,  by  its  powerful  constraints,  effects  that 
which  nothing  else  could — no,  not  the  dread  of  punishment 
nor  the  hope  of  reward.  There  are  defiant  natures  which 
despise  these  things,  and  yet  are  subject  to  the  sweet  influ- 
ences of  love. 

The  whole  superstructure  of  society,  it  has  been  re- 
marked, is  based  on  the  family  circle.  This  is  true  in  every 
respect,  and  especially  in  this  :  that  if  you  could  destroy 
those  ties  which  are  knit  by  love  among  the  different  mem- 
bers of  a  household,  you  would  thereby  destroy  all  those 
virtues  upon  which  society  depends.  Take  away  the  affec- 
tion of  the  parent  for  the  child,  and  of  the  child  for  the 
parent,  the  regard  of  the  brother  for  the  sister,  and  of  the 
sister  for  the  brother,  and  you  will  remove  the  strongest 
barriers  against  crime,  and  the  strongest  incentives  to  a 
praiseworthy  conduct.  Every  child  which  a  man  has,  it  has 
been  said,  is  a  pledge  to  the  community  for  his  good  con- 
duct. Nor  can  the  son  or  the  daughter  easily  throw  them- 
selves loose  from  the  virtuous  influence  of  family  affections, 
which  they  feel  to  be  holy  beyond  all  others.  The  old 
home-feeling  follows  them  wherever  they  go,  flashing  up 
into  brightness  when  they  happen  to  be  brought  into  scenes 
or  circumstances  which  contrast  darkly  with  the  peace  and 


60  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  [seemon  iv. 

purity  of  childhood.  I  believe  it  is  well  known  that  a  large 
proportion  of  our  criminals,  the  pests  of  society,  the  tenants 
of  our  jails,  are  waifs  and  strays,  who  have  never  known 
domestic  ties,  who  have  none  to  care  for  them,  none  to  vex 
by  their  crimes.  And  there  are  strange  chapters  in  the  his- 
tory of  some  criminals  who  had  friends  who  loved  them, 
and  whom  they  loved  in  return,  times  of  relenting  when 
they  thought  of  these,  tears  streaming  from  eyes  little  ac- 
customed to  weeping,  fond  memories  of  affections  forfeited, 
but  never  to  be  effaced,  perhaps  a  resolution  to  return  and 
cry  :  "  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  in  thy 
sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son  :  make 
me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants." 

I  have  hitherto  spoken  of  love  chiefly  as  restraining 
from  evil ;  but  it  is  no  less  powerful  in  promoting  what  is 
good.  What  would  we  not  do  for  those  whom  we  love  ! 
What  burdens  would  we  not  bear  !  What  hardships  would 
we  not  undergo  ;  what  sacrifices  would  we  not  cheerfully 
make  !  History  not  unfrequently  traces  the  heroic  to  such 
affections  as  this  ;  and,  believe  me,  there  is  a  humble  hero- 
ism in  many  homes,  which  finds  no  record  in  the  historian's 
page.  There  is  sometimes  a  patient  industry,  continued  till 
"  the  head  grows  dizzy  and  the  eyes  grow  dim,"  for  the 
support  of  an  aged  parent ;  there  is  sometimes  a  faithful 
watching  for  long  months  and  years  by  the  bedside  of  a 
sickly  sister  ;  and,  if  a  visitor  there,  you  may  see  how  care- 
fully the  drooping  head  is  pillowed,  and  how  anxiously  the 
slow  ebb  of  life  is  observed,  and  how  gently  every  kind 
office  is  performed,  and  how  no  word  of  complaint  is  spoken, 
though  there  should  be  weary  days  and  wakeful  nights  and 
an  aching  brow.  Sometimes,  again,  how  bravely  is  the  bat- 
tle of  life  fought  in  the  face  of  poverty  and  misfortune, 
without  flinching  and  without  fear,  with  stout  hands  and  a 
sturdy  heart — for  there  are  little  ones  at  home  to  be  cared 
for  ;  and  what  will  the  head  and  heart  and  hands  of  a  par- 


cuKOTNGHAM.]  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  61 

ent  not  combine  to  do  for  these  !  These  are  good  deeds, 
recorded  in  heaven  though  unnoticed  on  earth,  and  they 
spring  from  the  constraining  power  of  love.  -^ 

Such  is  the  influence  of  love  in  some  of  its  many  rami- 
fications. It  holds  society  together.  It  keeps  the  vicious 
in  check,  and  spurs  on  the  virtuous  to  be  more  virtuous 
still.  It  is  more  powerful  for  good  than  moralists  and 
preachers.  It  is  more  stringent  in  restraining  from  crime 
than  constabularies  and  penitentiaries.  In  truth,  all  the 
constables  and  judges  and  jailers  in  the  world  could  not 
put  down  crime  were  it  not  for  this,  and  the  appeals  of  the 
pulpit  are  effective  only  when  they  touch  a  chord  already 
existing  in  the  human  heart.  Take  away  this  principle, 
and  vice  like  a  rank  and  noxious  vegetation  would  soon 
overspread  society.  It  would  be  impossible  to  keep  it  down. 
But  by  its  gentle  and  scarcely  perceptible  constraints  love 
makes  the  bad  good,  and  the  good  better  ;  and  it  is  univer- 
sally felt  that  they  must  be  very  bad  indeed  who  can  over- 
leap all  its  fences  and  violate  feelings  so  peculiarly  sacred. 

We  have  now  seen  there  are  two  opposite  springs  of 
human  conduct :  the  one  selfish,  the  other  disinterested  ; 
the  former  embracing  the  hope  of  reward,  and  the  fear  of 
punishment  ;  the  latter  resulting  from  the  force  of  our  love 
for  some  one.  It  is  easy  to  see  which  of  these  sources  of 
conduct  is  the  purer,  the  nobler,  the  more  divine  ;  and  it 
only  remains  for  me  now  to  inquire  which  of  them  it  is 
which  the  gospel  enjoins. 

With  my  text  and  other  kindred  sayings  of  Christ  and^ 
his  apostles  in  view,  we  can  not  doubt  that  gospel  morality 
is  based  on  love — on  unselfish  love — on  the  love  which  the 
Christian  has  for  the  Christ.  "  If  ye  love  me,"  said  Jesus, 
"  keep  my  commandments."  Here  the  great  Master  insists 
that  a  true  love  for  him  should  lead  to  a  Christian  life.  4 
"  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,"  says  St.  Paul  in  the 
text.     This  may  refer  either  to  the  love  which  we  have  for 


62  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  [sermon  iv. 

Christ  or  the  love  He  bears  to  us,  or  to  both  ;  and  the  ef- 
fect of  this  reciprocal  affection  is  to  constrain  us  to  live  an 
unselfish,  self-sacrificing  life  such  as  Christ  lived  ;  it  hems 
us  in  and  urges  us  on,  so  that  we  can  not  but  do  as  He  did. 

But  it  may  be  said.  Other  motives  besides  this  are  often 
set  before  us  in  the  Bible.  Both  heaven  and  hell  loom  in 
many  of  its  pages,  and  are  pressed  upon  us  by  the  preacher 
as  motives  to  holy  living  ;  and  salvation  with  all  that  it 
implies  is  frequently  spoken  of  as  a  reward.  All  this  is 
true.  It  is  true,  heaven  is  the  appointed  home  of  the  holy, 
and  hell  even  upon  earth  the  natural  doom  of  the  unholy  ; 
and  the  belief  of  this  must  have  its  influence  with  men  sub- 
ject to  hope  and  fear.  In  fact,  these  are  the  only  things 
which  have  weight  with  some  men.  Nothing  but  the  thun- 
derings  and  lightnings  of  Sinai  could  awe  the  nomad  tribes 
of  Israel  into  subjection.  Nothing  but  the  pains  of  purga- 
tory or  the  horrors  of  hell  has  influence  still  with  semi- 
savages.  But  this  is  not  the  evangel  of  Jesus  !  And  there 
is  something  good  in  the  way  in  which  your  high  Evangel- 
ical states  the  truth.  "We  keep  God's  commandments," 
be  says,  "  not  that  we  may  obtain  salvation,  but  because  we 
have  obtained  it ;  we  lead  a  Christian  life,  not  that  we  may 
be  saved,  but  because  we  are  saved  !  Mary  was  forgiven 
much,  and  therefore  she  loved  much  ! " 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  regarding  the  pure  love 
of  God.  It  is  a  doctrine  which  leads  directly  to  mysticism, 
but  at  the  same  time  it  is  a  doctrine  which  has  had  its  con- 
fessors and  martyrs,  and  the  pious  Fenelon  put  forth  all  his 
persuasive  eloquence  in  its  defense.  Now,  whatever  we 
may  think  of  the  possibility  of  loving  God — the  spiritual — 
the  absolute — for  his  own  sake,  and  altogether  apart  from 
those  hopes  and  promises  which  incline  the  heart  to  love, 
there  need  be  no  doubt  in  regard  to  the  Divine  man  Jesus 
of  Nazareth.  If  it  be  possible  to  love  humanity  in  its  high- 
est form,  we  must  love  it  as  it  is  enshrined  here.     For  dur- 


CUNNINGHAM.]  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  G3 

ing  these  eighteen  centuries  the  image  of  Jesus,  as  first 
limned  out  in  the  Gospels,  has  so  grown  in  the  Christian 
consciousness  that  it  is  now  the  ideal  of  all  possible  perfec- 
tion. To  love  Jesus  is  therefore  to  love  the  incarnation  of 
all  that  is  Godlike  and  good.  Myriads  can  testify  how 
they  do  love  him  with  a  love  stronger  than  death. 

Here,  then,  we  have  a  powerful  principle  introduced  into 
the  Christian  heart.  I  have  already  spoken  of  the  power  of 
parental  and  other  human  love  in  restraining  from  wicked- 
ness and  stimulating  to  industry,  honesty,  and  honor.  How 
much  more  powerful  this  Divine  love,  this  love  of  the  self- 
denying  Jesus  !  Every  Christian  knows  it,  feels  it,  can  tell 
how  it  constrains  him  to  live  not  to  himself,  but  to  him  who 
loved  him  and  died  for  him.  Moses  with  his  Decalogue 
could  never  accomplish  what  has  thus  been  achieved  by 
Christ  and  his  Cross.  The  bonds  of  the  old  morality  coukl, 
like  green  withes,  be  easily  broken,  but  the  ties  of  this  new 
morality  are  strong,  just  because  they  are  tender. 

As  this  gospel  morality  is  stronger  in  its  sanctions,  so  is 
it  purer  in  its  motives,  than  any  other.  All  other  sources 
of  conduct  are  less  or  more  interested,  selfish,  and  sordid. 
If  we  avoid  sin  merely  because  we  dre'ad  its  punishment,  if 
we  cultivate  piety  merely  because  we  desire  its  rewards,  our 
behavior  comes  of  unmitigated  selfishness.  We  are  utili- 
tarians and  economists,  not  Christians.  But  when  the  love 
of  the  Divine  Jesus  takes  possession  of  our  soul,  when  we 
love  him  and  feel  that  He  loves  us  with  more  than  a  woman's 
love,  we  are  inflamed  with  a  desire  to  imitate  him  in  all 
things,  and  to  make  his  all-perfect  life  the  model  for  our 
own.  It  is  thus  the  Christian  saint  rises  infinitely  higher 
than  the  patriarch  or  prophet  of  Old  Testament  times. 
Through  the  force  of  Christ's  living  example  he  has  risen 
to  a  loftier  plateau  on  the  hill  of  holiness  than  was  ever 
reached  by  the  best  of  them.  It  is  upon  no  calculation  of 
the  consequences  of  his  conduct  that  he  acts  ;  it  is  from  no 


64  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  [sermon  iv. 

balancing  of  profit  and  loss  ;  he  attemj^ts  not  to  make  sal- 
vation a  thing  of  barter,  giving  so  much  holiness,  getting 
so  much  happiness,  but  he  is  pure,  pious,  devoted  to  God's 
service,  submissive  to  God's  will,  because,  filled  with  rever- 
ence for  the  human  ideal  of  all  that  is  Divine,  he  strives  to 
imitate  it.  A  lofty  spiritual  eminence  to  rise  to,  but  not 
too  high  for  Christian  aspiration  ! 

But  still  further,  as  the  motive  to  this  gospel  morality  is 
the  purest  possible,  so  is  it  less  productive  of  pain  and  more 
productive  of  happiness  than  any  other  motive  of  obedience 
which  could  be  presented  to  us,  No  man  obeys  so  cheerfully 
as  he  who  does  it  from  love.  A  forced  obedience  is  always 
a  painful  obedience.  In  France,  after  the  great  Revolution, 
there  was  a  period  known  as  the  Reign  of  Terror,  when  the 
guillotine  daily  dripped  with  blood — the  blood  of  the  best 
and  bravest  and  most  beautiful  in  the  land.  The  men  in 
power  were  monsters  of  iniquity,  and  many  of  the  laws 
they  enacted  were  violations  of  all  justice  ;  but  these  men 
were  outwardly  honored  and  their  laws  most  scrupulously 
obeyed.  Not  a  whisper  was  heard  throughout  all  Paris 
— the  tumultuous  city — against  either  lawgivers  or  laws. 
Every  citizen  seemed  more  anxious  than  another  to  obey 
to  the  very  letter,  and  to  omit  nothing  in  word  or  deed  to 
show  his  perfect  submission  to  the  ruling  powers.  But  all 
this  while  men's  hearts  Avere  frozen  with  horror  ;  the  gaunt 
guillotine  threw  its  shadow  before  them  wherever  they 
went ;  and  when  friends  met  they  could  only  silently  shake 
hands  and  part,  for  they  dared  not  say  what  they  felt,  and 
they  knew  not  if  they  might  meet  again.  How  different  from 
this  a  community  in  which  the  laws  ai'e  obeyed  from  a  sense 
of  their  justice,  and  in  which,  accordingly,  every  face  is 
radiant  with  joy,  and  in  which  neighbors  and  friends  can 
freely  interchange  their  thoughts  without  dread  of  a  spy  ! 
Here,  then,  we  have  the  reign  of  love  contrasted  with  the 
reign  of  terror. 


ccNNiNGHAM.J  THE  RELIGION  OF  LOVE.  55 

It  is  from  the  same  circumstance  that  the  love-allotted 
task  is  more  lightsome  than  the  same  amount  of  labor  ex- 
acted by  fear.  God  knows  how  much  is  done  for  love,  and 
how  pleasantly. 

So  it  is  in  the  Gospel  kingdom.  The  Christian  lives  not 
under  a  reign  of  terror,  but  of  love.  He  obeys  not  from 
fear,  but  from  affection.  He  does  not  tremble  like  a  slave, 
but  he  has  the  free,  happy  look  of  a  child.  And  the  duties  of 
Christianity  are  not  extorted  from  an  aroused  and  alarmed 
conscience,  they  are  the  free-will  offerings  of  a  loving  heart. 
We  are  willing  workers  for  Christ,  but  labor  in  his  ser- 
vice is  felt  to  be  no  drudgery,  for  love  lightens  the  heaviest 
burdens. 

It  is  thus  that  the  love  of  Christ  constrains  us.  In  other 
words,  love  to  Christ,  as  the  highest  ideal  of  human  perfec- 
tion, the  point  where  the  human  and  Divine  merge  into  one, 
is  the  basis  of  our  Christian  morality.  That  motive  is  the 
strongest  that  could  be  presented  to  us — the  purest,  the  hap- 
piest. With  such  a  love  in  our  hearts  we  can  not  but  live 
earnest,  useful,  holy  lives,  thus  adorning  the  doctrine  of  our 
God  and  Saviour.  May  this  love  be  shed  abroad  in  your 
hearts!  May  it  extend  its  influence  over  your  lives  !  May 
it  constrain  you  to  devote  yourselves  soul  and  body  to  God's 
service  !  It  was  this  love  that  moved  St.  John  to  write  so 
touchingly,  and  St.  Paul  to  labor  so  unweariedly,  and  St. 
Stephen  to  die  so  serenely  ;  it  has  been  the  same  love  which 
in  all  ages  has  made  the  true  Christian  exhibit  upon  earth 
the  beauties  of  a  heavenly  holiness,  and  which  in  the  ages 
to  come  will  subdue  all  hearts  to  virtue  by  subduing  them 
to  Christ. 


66  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  [sekmon  v. 


V. 

LAW  AKD  MIEACLE. 

BY    THE    RET.    D.  J.    FERGUSON,    B.  D.,    STRATHBLANE. 

''  There  was  a  man  of  the  Pharisees,  named  Nicodemus,  a  ruler  of 
the  Jews :  The  same  came  to  Jesus  by  night,  and  said  unto  him, 
Rabbi,  we  know  that  thou  art  a  teacher  come  from  God :  for  no 
man  can  do  these  mii-acles  that  thou  doest,  except  God  be  with  him. 
Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him,  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee. 
Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  can  not  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 
— John  iii,  1-3. 

When  we  read  these  words,  our  first  impression  is  that 
our  Lord's  reply  has  little  or  no  bearing  upon  the  address 
of  Nicodemus.  The  speakers  appear  to  be  moving  upon 
lines  that  are  quite  apart  :  they  hardly  seem  to  be  carrying 
on  a  conversation  at  all,  but  rather  to  be  uttering  abrupt 
and  disconnected  thoughts.  There  are  many  passages  of 
Holy  Scripture,  however,  where  the  sequence  of  thought  is 
real,  though  it  may  not  be  obvious.  The  connecting  links 
may  not  obtrude  themselves  upon  our  notice,  but  we  are 
not  therefore  to  conclude  that  they  do  not  exist.  The  pres- 
ent is  a  case  in  point.  For  the  question  implicitly  before 
the  minds  of  the  speakers  is,  "  What  is  the  true  criterion  of 
a  revelation  of  God  ?  "  In  the  one  case,  we  have  the  an- 
swer that  suggests  itself  to  a  nature  of  immature  spiritual 
growth  ;  in  the  other,  the  answer  of  perfect  insight.  Nico- 
demiis  based  his  belief  upon  the  external  fact  of  miracle  : 
our  Lord  taught  him  that  he  must  build  upon  a  surer  foun- 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  giy 

dation  ;  not  upon  outward,  but  upon  inward  facts,  upon  the 
truth  of  the  impulse  given  to  the  inner  life. 

This,  as  it  was  an  important  lesson  for  the  early  converts 
from  Judaism,  remains  an  important  lesson  for  the  Church 
of  to-day.  According  as  the  principle  is  accepted  or  rejected, 
our  faith  in  Christ  will  have  an  intrinsic  strength,  or  be  in- 
secure and  dependent  upon  external  support.  It  will  either 
be  able  to  overcome  the  world,  and  adapt  itself  to  the  con- 
ditions of  modern  culture,  or  it  will  be  void  of  self-reliance, 
and,  instead  of  looking  to  the  future  with  confidence,  its 
deepest  yearnings  will  go  out  toward  the  "  ages  of  faith  " 
in  the  buried  centuries. 

That  Nicoderaus  in  his  thoughts  about  Divine  thincrs 
should  have  laid  exclusive  stress  upon  miracle  and  sign  need 
not  surprise  us.  This  is  no  more  than  to  say  he  was  a  Jew. 
"With  many  great  qualities,  the  Jewish  mind  was  essentially 
materialistic  in  its  leanings.  The  nation  as  a  whole  were 
true  sons  of  earth,  devoted  to  its  interests,  placing  their 
highest  happiness  in  its  successes,  and  in  its  misfortunes 
finding  their  sorest  punishments.  Prosperity  was  "  the  bless- 
ing of  the  Old  Testament,"  just  because  it  was  the  blessing 
they  were  best  able  to  appreciate,  and  their  religion  had 
ever  the  aspect  of  a  bargain  between  them  and  Jehovah. 
No  doubt  there  arose  among  them  Psalmists  and  Prophets 
of  a  very  different  stamp  :  men  whose  words  have  lost 
nothing  of  power  and  fervor,  but  find  a  quicker  response 
in  the  mind  of  the  Christian  than  in  the  mind  of  the  pre- 
Christian  age.  But  these  were  exceptionally  gifted  souls, 
raised  by  the  force  and  originality  of  their  religious  genius 
far  above  their  brethren.  The  masses  were  unspiritual  in 
the  last  degree,  and  the  religion  of  the  Old  Testament, 
based  as  it  was  upon  signs  and  wonders,  was  the  natural 
outcome  of  a  disposition  that  craved  external  guarantees 
for  spiritual  truth. 

In  the  time  of  Christ,  this  habit  of  thought  was  espe- 


68  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  [sermon  v. 

cially  remarkable,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  hour  helped 
to  confirm  it.  Not  only  had  the  minds  of  that  generation 
been  formed  under  the  influence  of  the  national  myths  and 
traditions,  but  a  new  and  powerful  element  had  been  intro- 
duced in  the  religious  speculations  which  were  the  fruit  of 
contact  with  Oriental  and  Western  thought.  They  were, 
besides,  chafing  under  the  Roman  yoke,  and  the  belief  was 
widespread  that  a  great  catastrophe  was  at  hand  to  usher 
in  the  Messianic  kingdom.  Take  all  this  into  account,  and 
it  is  evident  that  under  such  conditions  the  Jewish  craving 
for  signs  was  not  likely  to  decrease,  but  to  become  more 
feverish  and  intense.  The  contemporaries  of  our  Lord,  in- 
deed, seem  not  to  have  been  able  to  conceive  of  any  other 
test  of  truth.  "  What  sign  showest  thou  ?  "  was  the  cry  on 
every  side,  and  the  weakness  of  their  favorite  proof  was 
manifested  in  their  continued  unbelief,  Nicodemus  differed 
from  his  countrymen,  not  in  that  he  could  dispense  with 
signs,  but  in  his  willingness  to  accept  them  as  credentials 
of  our  Saviour's  message. 

The  contrast  between  our  Lord's  method  of  teaching 
and  the  spirit  of  the  Jews  is  very  striking.  Christianity  is 
based  not  upon  the  outward,  but  upon  the  inward.  It 
makes  light  of  physical  portents,  but  seeks  to  quicken  spir- 
itual perceptions.  Its  moving  principle  is  not  a  mere  sense 
of  wonder,  or  of  prostration  before  infinite  Power,  but  that 
trust  in  God  which  satisfies  the  cravings  and  stills  the  un- 
rest of  the  soul.  And  hence  our  Lord  laid  little  stress  upon 
miracle  and  sign.  He  was  habitually  chary  of  their  use, 
and  over  and  over  again  rebuked  the  curiosity  which  so 
eagerly  asked  for  them.  According  to  the  narrative,  they 
became  in  his  hands  means  of  subjecting  the  material  to  the 
spiritual,  and  of  leading  the  sensuous-minded  multitude 
away  from  the  seen  and  temporal  to  the  hidden  sources  of 
Divine  life  in  the  soul.  He  emphatically  pronounced  his 
blessing,  not  upon  the  faith  born  of  sight,  but  upon  the 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  69 

faith  which  is  the  "  evidence  of  things  not  seen "  ;  and 
showed  men  that  in  their  own  natures  there  was  a  Holy  of 
Holies,  in  which  the  voice  of  God  might  be  heard  giving  an 
oracle  of  truth.  The  whole  of  his  teaching  took  a  nobler 
range  than  that  of  the  law  ;  and,  in  breaking  away  from  the 
material  associations  of  the  older  faith,  He  opened  up  to 
his  followers  a  new  and  fairer  region  of  spiritual  life  and 
thought. 

It  is  well  for  us,  for  the  Church  at  large,  that  this  is  so. 
For  the  whole  question  is  here  involved,  whether  Christian- 
ity is  capable  of  becoming  the  universal  religion  or  not.  Its 
elasticity  and  perennial  freshness  belong  to  its  spiritual  na- 
ture. From  this  source  arises  its  power  of  statedly  intro- 
ducing reforms,  and  of  subordinating  or  casting  out  alto- 
gether matters  of  doctrine  and  tradition,  which  are  no 
longer  necessary  to  the  system  ;  and  to  this,  therefore,  we 
owe  it,  that  the  religion  of  Christ  is  not  to-day  a  faint  echo 
of  the  past,  but  the  greatest  living  influence  among  men. 
Indeed,  it  is  impossible  to  see  how  faith  could  otherwise 
overcome  the  world.  The  life  of  Christ,  left  further  and 
further  behind  us,  would  dwindle  into  a  mere  speck  upon 
the  horizon,  and  be  swallowed  up  in  the  haze  of  distance. 
Faith  in  him  would  become  the  mark  of  a  small  and  con- 
stantly diminishing  band  ;  it  would  altogether  lose  its  pow- 
er of  expansion  ;  and  his  religion,  instead  of  rolling  onward 
like  a  river  fed  from  a  thousand  tributaries,  would  resemble 
a  torrent  which,  however  bounteous  its  source,  receives  no 
new  supplies,  and  at  length  exhausts  itself  in  the  sand. 

Christianity,  then,  is  no  rigid  system  of  dogma,  or  of 
ecclesiastical  forms,  elaborated  long  ago,  and  incapable  of 
growth  or  change.  It  is  rather  a  living  organism,  drawing 
nourishment  to  itself  from  every  side,  and  affected  by  the 
life-pulsations  of  every  age.  Look,  for  instance,  what  a 
vast  difference  between  Christianity  in  the  first  and  in  the 
nineteenth  century  !     Then,  it  was  struggling  for  existence 


70  ^-4TF  AAW  MIRACLE.  [sermon  v. 

between  Judaism  on  the  one  hand  and  Paganism  on  the 
other  :  now,  it  has  conquered  its  position,  and  extorts  rec- 
ognition at  least  from  its  bitterest  opponents.  It  has  rev- 
olutionized the  whole  structure  of  society,  and  formed  man- 
ners and  customs  and  habits  of  thought.  It  has  taught  us 
that  humanity,  made  in  the  image  of  God,  is  sacred,  and 
that,  belonging  to  man  as  the  creature  of  God,  there  are  in- 
alienable rights  which  may  not  be  trampled  upon.  It  has 
given  a  new  significance  to  the  idea  of  duty.  This  it  has 
taken  out  of  the  exclusive  possession  of  the  philosophic,  and 
the  resolute  by  nature,  and  bestowed  upon  the  humblest 
soul  whose  hard  lot  is  cheered  by  heavenward  aspiration, 
and  borne  unmurmuringly  for  the  sake  of  Christ.  It  has 
vivified  and  ennobled  religious  faith  by  giving  a  revelation 
of  God  at  once  human  and  removed  from  the  weakness  of 
humanity,  and  has  thus  shed  a  sanctifying  influence  over 
the  intellect  and  heart  of  man.  It  has  fused  together  the 
various  elements  of  the  body  politic,  and  made  a  true  na- 
tional life  a  reality  ;  it  has  trained  and  strengthened  public 
opinion,  marked  out  the  course  of  legislation,  and  defined 
the  limits  of  government.  It  is,  in  short,  the  atmosphere  in 
which  we  live  and  breathe,  and  of  which,  unconsciously  to 
ourselves,  we  sustain  the  pressure.  "  It  is  without  us,  and 
we  are  v/ithin  its  circle  :  we  do  not  become  Christians,  we 
are  so  from  our  birth." 

The  importance  of  the  change  must  not  be  overlooked, 
seeing  it  affects  not  merely  the  form,  but  the  matter  also,  of 
our  belief.  For  the  law  of  action  and  reaction  is  as  true  in 
the  mental  as  in  the  physical  world,  and,  in  taking  up  into 
itself  the  whole  circle  of  life,  Christianity  can  not  but  feel 
the  influence  of  its  changed  conditions.  It  has  to  enter  new 
fields  of  thought  and  knowledge,  and  adapt  itself  to  the 
complex  relations,  and  tendencies,  and  wants  of  the  modern 
world.  And  as  each  generation  necessarily  holds  its  faith 
as  the  reflection  of  its  own  spiritual  consciousness,  its  creed 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  71 

must  no  less  be  stated  (or,  what  comes  to  the  same  thing,  if 
not  stated,  interpreted)  in  its  own  forms  of  thought.  Its 
religion,  in  a  word,  is  molded  by  that  very  real  though  im- 
palpable power  which  we  call  the  "  spirit  of  the  age  "  ;  and 
men  are  not  only  intellectually  and  morally,  but  spiritually 
also,  the  children  of  their  time. 

Within  the  Church  itself,  therefore,  we  have  to  recog- 
nize an  historical  process  by  which  the  faith  characteristic  of 
each  successive  age  is  determined.  A  current  of  life  is  thus 
introduced  to  prevent  stagnation  and  decay  ;  and  the  ten- 
dency makes  itself  more  and  more  felt  to  distinguish  be- 
tween what  is  essential  in  Christianity  and  what  is  of  pass- 
ing value.  The  truths  of  faith  are  seen  apart  from  the 
special  form  and  local  coloring  which  gave  them  vividness 
to  the  Jewish  mind,  and,  while  the  temporary  falls  away, 
that  which  is  of  permanent  significance  remains.  We  may, 
indeed,  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  progress  of  his- 
tory is  a  revelation  of  God,  and  refuse  to  acknowledge 
either  its  right  or  its  power  to  modify  the  New  Testament 
revelation.  If  we  worship  an  infallible  book  and  conceive 
of  revelation  as  the  publication,  once  for  all,  of  a  definite 
scheme  of  dogma,  we  shall  naturally  cling  to  the  past,  and 
forget  that  there  is  anything  divine  in  the  world  of  to-day. 
The  apostolic  age  will  alone  seem  sacred,  and  a  secular  era 
date  from  its  close.  But,  if,  inspired  by  a  worthier  faith, 
we  believe  in  a  living  presence  of  God  in  every  age,  the 
passing  years  will  only  bring  into  stronger  relief  the  prin- 
ciples of  our  Saviour's  teaching.  In  the  history  of  the 
Church  we  shall  see  the  process  by  which  the  spirit  of 
Christ  manifests  itself  and  leads  her  into  truth  and  freedom. 
The  changes  which  must  come  in  the  presentment  of  the 
faith  will  then  be  to  us  the  signs,  not  of  decay  but  of  health, 
not  the  forerunners  of  dissolution  but  the  normal  action  and 
the  proof  of  life.  They  will  teach  us  how  important  and 
necessary  it  is  to  distinguish  between  the  letter  and  the 


72  LA  W  AND  MIR  A  CLE.  [sermon  v. 

spirit,  between  form  and  essence,  between  what  is  local  and 
temporary  and  what  is  universal  and  eternal. 

Of  the  effects  produced  by  this  process  of  sifting  and 
winnowing  which  goes  on  in  history,  we  have  a  good  ex- 
ample in  the  doctrine  of  miracle.  In  our  own  day,  that 
doctrine  does  not  occupy  the  prominent  position  it  for- 
merly had.  It  has  fallen  into  the  background,  and  lost  its 
apologetic  value  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  its  actual  relations 
to  the  circle  of  Christian  truth  have  been  made  clear.  In 
the  course  of  last  century,  on  the  contrary,  the  sharpest 
attacks  which  Christianity  had  to  sustain  were  directed 
against  this  side.  The  contest  raged  round  the  credibility 
or  incredibility  of  miracle,  as  if  the  whole  of  revelation 
depended  upon  the  issue.  In  reality,  however,  no  vital 
point  of  revelation  was  endangered.  It  was  an  affair  of 
outposts  altogether,  and  the  work  so  energetically  as- 
saulted and  defended  had  little  importance  for  the  citadel 
in  the  rear.  Neither  the  philosopher  who  argued  against, 
nor  the  divine  who  contended  for  miracle,  was  dealing  with 
the  essence  of  Christianity,  and  the  complete  triumph  of 
either  would  have  made  little  change.  At  the  worst,  a 
dogma  of  the  Church  would  have  been  overthrown  :  but 
the  dogmas  of  the  Church  and  the  religion  of  Christ  are 
not  synonymous  terms. 

Now,  to  make  belief  in  Christ  depend,  in  any  degree, 
upon  the  fact  that  He  wrought  miracles,  is  to  build  upon 
the  sand.  It  is  to  go  back  to  the  old  Jewish  belief  of  Nico- 
demus  in  the  text,  and  to  incur  the  implied  rebuke  in  our 
Lord's  answer  to  him.  For  by  no  act  of  power,  be  it  ever 
so  great,  can  we  prove  a  spiritual  truth.  In  the  ordinary 
business  of  life,  we  should  not  point  to  a  physical  fact,  or 
series  of  facts,  as  an  evidence  of  a  truth  of  consciousness. 
But,  when  we  enter  upon  matters  connected  with  religion, 
it  is  more  difficult  to  preserve  the  candor  of  mind  which 
elsewhere  stands  us  in  good  stead.     A  false  reverence  is 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  73 

only  too  apt  to  blind  us,  though  the.prmciple  is  as  strong 
in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  Considered  in  themselves, 
miracles  are  signs  of  the  possession  of  power  ;  but  whether 
that  power  springs  from  a  deeper  insight  than  common  into 
the  constitution  of  nature,  or  is,  strictly  speaking,  super- 
natural, they  do  not  tell  us.  Were  they  to  be  performed 
to-day,  our  conclusion  would  be,  not  that  a  divine  being 
had  aj^peared  among  us,  but  simply  that  events  so  startling 
challenged  the  closest  attention  and  investigation  ;  of  the 
character  of  the  worker  himself  we  should  judge  from 
other  and  independent  sources.  And,  when  we  argue  that 
the  New  Testament  miracles  prove  the  divine  origin  of 
Christianity,  we  are  going  upon  the  assumption  that  the 
possession  of  power  over  nature  is  the  constant  index  of 
spiritual  truth  and  wisdom — an  assumption  demanded  by 
no  necessity  of  thought,  and  contradicted  by  every-day 
experience  of  men's  actions — an  assumption,  moreover,  at 
variance  with  the  teaching  of  Scripture  itself,  that  a  sign 
may  be  given,  and  yet  the  message  be  false.  In  other 
words,  froin  premises  that  belong  to  the  material  world,  we 
are  attempting  to  draw  a  conclusion  regarding  the  spiritual. 
There  is,  indeed,  one  supposition  upon  which  a  sign  given 
in  nature  will  be  the  evidence  for  a  spiritual  truth.  The 
day  may  come  when  the  old  dualism  of  matter  and  spirit 
shall  be  resolved,  and  the  interaction  and  interdependence 
of  what  we  now  call  material  and  spiritual  forces  be  made 
clear  to  thought.  But  in  the  mean  time,  while  the  gulf  is 
still  unbridged,  we  can  not  pass  from  one  side  to  the  other. 
Until  the  junction  is  made,  we  must  frankly  recognize  the 
secondary  place  of  miracle  in  the  Christian  system.  Grant- 
ed the  historical  accuracy  of  the  narratives  in  the  Gospels, 
even  then  the  argument  from  miracle  holds,  with  regard 
to  our  Loi'd,  a  position  similar  to  that  which  the  argument 
from  design  holds  with  regard  to  the  being  of  a  God.  The 
latter  does  not  prove  God's  existence  ;  it  only  proves  the 
4 


74  -t^^  ^^^^  MIRACLE.  [sermon  v. 

existence  of  a  great  artist  working  upon  materials  ready- 
to  his  hand.  And,  in  like  manner,  the  former  only  proves 
that  Christ  was  endowed  with  special  power.  About  his 
doctrine  it  is  silent. 

If,  however,  in  the  development  of  history,  the  eviden- 
tial power  of  miracles  has  grown  weak,  it  need  not  follow 
that  the  belief  is  to  be  thrown  overboard,  and  the  narra- 
tives deleted  from  the  Gospels.  The  belief  has  still  its 
place  in  the  order  of  Christian  thought :  it  continues  to  be 
of  use,  though  in  a  different  way,  and  in  a  more  private 
sphere.  We  may  not,  as  we  have  said,  base  our  faith  in 
Christ  upon  our  reception  of  his  miracles  :  conversely,  how- 
ever, we  may  base  our  reception  of  his  miracles  upon  our 
faith  in  Christ.  The  miracle  is  not  the  guarantee  for  the 
revelation,  but  the  revelation  for  the  miracle.  Such  a 
change  in  the  point  of  view  necessarily  brings  us  into  a 
new  circle  of  relations.  The  course  taken  by  reflection  lies 
away  altogether  from  dispute  and  argument,  and  inclines 
toward  the  calm  of  meditation.  Let  the  revelation  be  ac- 
cepted, and  the  miracles  fall  into  their  true  position,  and 
speak  to  many  minds,  whose  conception  of  Christ  they 
enlarge  and  strengthen.  Our  Lord  is  then  seen  to  be  the 
revealer  of  the  Father,  not  only  in  redeeming  men  from  sin, 
but  also  in  manifesting  the  Divine  control  over  the  uni- 
verse. He  not  only  speaks  to  the  hearts  and  consciences 
of  men,  but  also  discovers  to  them  their  true  relations  to 
nature.  And  thus  the  miracles  become  the  insignia  of  his 
office,  and  open  up  to  us  the  secret  of  the  external  world. 
They  tell  us  that  the  laws  by  which  the  universe  is  gov- 
erned and  the  physical  conditions  in  which  we  live  spring 
from  a  hidden  spiritual  source,  and  are  upheld  by  a  spiritual 
presence.  The  constitution  of  the  world  is,  they  say,  the 
expression  of  the  beneficence  of  God,  who  has  imprinted 
upon  it  his  own  goodness,  and  intended  it  to  forward  the 
happiness  and  well-being  of  his  creatures.     That  his  laws  in 


FERGOSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  75 

their  action  do  not  always  tend  toward  happiness,  that  on 
the  contrary  they  often  produce  suffering  and  misery,  is  no 
doubt  true.  At  times  they  seem  to  work  against  and  not 
in  favor  of  man.  There  is  much  apparent  waste  and  ruth- 
less cruelty  which  we  can  not  explain.  We  have  no  key  to 
the  problem  ;  and  there  are  hours  in  which  we  seem  to  be 
the  puppets  of  a  remorseless  Fate,  rather  than  the  creatures 
of  a  heavenly  Father.  Of  the  facts  which  may  be  brought 
forward  in  support  of  this  gloomy  imagination,  some  are 
invincibly  shrouded  in  mystery,  and  there  we  must  be  con- 
tent to  leave  them.  They  belong  to  the  secret  things  of 
God.  The  tower  of  Siloara  falls  upon  men  not  specially 
guilty  ;  good  and  bad  alike  go  down  in  the  shipwreck  ;  the 
pure  and  innocent  are  the  helpless  victims  of  disease.  Be- 
fore these  and  such  like  facts  we  can  only  bow  our  heads 
in  silence.  There  are  other  cases,  however,  in  which  sin  en- 
ters as  a  factor  into  the  account  ;  and  here  the  miracles  of 
Christ  do  vindicate  God's  goodness.  They  proclaim  that 
in  him  power  and  love  exist  in  union,  and  are  the  founda- 
tion of  the  system  in  which  we  have  been  placed,  through 
which  He  seeks,  and  in  obedience  to  which  alone  we  attain, 
what  is  for  us  highest  and  best.  To  run  counter  to  his 
will  embodied  in  his  laws  is  to  plunge  into  suffering  ;  yet 
the  inevitable  connection  between  disobedience  and  suffer- 
ing is  itself  an  expression  of  his  loving  care,  his  call  to  us 
to  return,  his  effort  to  overcome  our  obstinacy  and  self-will. 
Refuse  as  we  may,  and  as  long  as  we  may,  to  hear,  He 
changes  not,  and  Nature  in  her  calm  uniformity  bears  the 
stamp  of  his  fixed,  unswerving  purpose.  We  need  no 
longer,  therefore,  stand  in  awe  and  helplessness  before  her, 
as  with  relentless  step  she  moves  on  to  crush  rebellion  ; 
pitiless  she  may  seem,  deaf  to  all  entreaty,  and  hard  to 
exact  the  uttermost  farthing  of  her  due  :  but  the  miracles 
declare  that  the  stern  countenance  hides  a  wise  and  lovincr 
heart,  and,  in  showing  us  a  spiritual  aim  in  her  processes, 


76  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  [sermon  v. 

bespeak  for  her  lessons  a  more  reverent  attention.  They 
teach  us  that  the  outer  world  is  the  "  visible  garment "  of 
Deity,  and  our  own  frames  the  temples  of  his  Spirit.  They 
speak  of  a  God  not  afar  off,  but  near  at  hand  ;  no  yawning 
chasm  divides  him  from  his  universe,  his  sustaining  presence 
dwells  in  it,  his  righteous  will  controls  it,  his  providence 
shapes  its  destiny.  The  miracles  of  our  Lord,  in  displaying 
the  moral  basis  of  the  whole  creation,  help  us  to  realize 
more  vividly  the  fullness  of  his  revelation  of  God,  to  feel 
that  we  dwell  in  our  Father's  house,  and  with  devout  hearts 
to  read,  as  expressed  in  material  forms,  the  parables  with 
which  we  are  surrounded. 

A  belief  like  this  is  not  to  be  accounted  barren.  Upon 
its  own  merits,  it  is  fully  entitled  to  take  its  place  in  the 
Christian  scheme.  But  there  is  another  aspect  of  the  sub- 
ject to  be  considered.  Belief  in  the  New  Testament  mir- 
acles, we  have  said,  may  rest  upon  belief  in  the  revela- 
tion of  Christ.  We  can  not,  however,  say  on  the  other 
hand,  that  belief  in  the  revelation  necessarily  brings  with 
it  a  belief  in  miracle.  It  can  not  be  denied  that,  in  our 
own  day,  there  are  many,  who,  calling  themselves  by  the 
name  of  Christ,  shrink,  avowedly  or  tacitly,  from  this  par- 
ticular dogma.  They  feel  that  the  miraculous  narratives 
of  the  Gospels,  instead  of  being  a  help,  are  a  burden  to 
faith,  and  may  therefore  be  quietly  dropped  out  of  sight. 
The  impulse  and  support  which,  in  their  own  spiritual  life, 
they  receive  from  Christianity,  are  not  rendered  stronger 
and  more  trustworthy  by  the  thought  that  its  first  appear- 
ance was  accompanied  by  signs  and  wonders.  Its  intrin- 
sic value  can  not  be  increased  by  any  amount  of  miracles, 
and  in  this  confidence  they  rest  satisfied. 

The  influences  which  produce  this  reserve  and  unwilling- 
ness of  mind  are  not  so  much  to  be  ti-aced  to  this  or  that 
definite  source,  as  to  be  felt  diffused  throughout  the  men- 
tal atmosphere  of  the  day.     The  silent  changes  of  history 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  77 

have  brought  us  into  a  new  "  climate  of  opinion,"  in  which 
an  easy  and  uncritical  assent  to  dogma  of  any  kind  docs 
not  flourish  so  luxuriantly  as  in  former  ages,  and  which 
to  the  belief  in  miracle  is  especially  unfavorable.  Many 
movements  of  thought  (which  it  is  of  course  impossible  to 
trace  herein  detail),  in  science,  and  philosophy,  and  religion 
itself,  have  combined  to  this  result.  Still  there  are  three 
which  have  been  so  important  as  to  demand  a  passing 
notice  : 

I.  First  of  all,  there  is  the  scientific  conception  of  the 
universality  of  Law.     This  may  truly  be  said   to  be  the 
revelation  of  our   own   age,  not  in  the  sense  that  it  was 
unknown  to  our  predecessors,  but  that  in  the  present  day 
the  conception  has  been  so  extended  and  generalized  as  to 
dwarf   its  former  proportions.      It  has  passed  out  of  the 
laboratory  of  science  into  the  common  possession  of  men, 
and  is  now  one  of  the  great  truths  so  firmly  established 
that  they  become  truisms.     We  never  stop  to  reason  about 
them,  and,  were  any  one  rash  enough  to  call  them  in  ques- 
tion, we  should  not  give  him  even  a  patient  hearing.    More- 
over, the  idea  of  Law  is  not  to  be  confined  to  the  material 
world  with  its  indestructible  treasury  of  force.     It  must  be 
carried  over  into  the  world  of  mind,  and  be  seen  at  work 
there  also,  not  indeed  with  the  rigidity  of  physical  law,  but 
within  the  large  limits  which  freedom  of  thought  and  action 
demands.     It  is  to  be  traced  in  the  advance  of  civilization, 
in  the  development  of  history,  in  the  growth  of  religion, 
in  relations  such  as  those  between  morals  and  art,  between 
society  and  government,  between  national  life  and  litera- 
ture.    Now,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  how  such  a  conception 
must  indispose  men  under  its  influence  to  look  favorably 
upon  miracle.     In  the  idea  of  order  everyAvhere  supreme, 
calm,  eternal,  there  is  a  sublimity  which  fills  their  imagi- 
nation and  stimulates  their  intellect.     Any  interruption  of 
its  uniform  course,  any  breach  of  continuity,  would  be  a 


78  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  [sermon  v. 

blemish  in  the  picture,  and  not  an  additional  charm — would 
be,  indeed,  a  positive  pain  to  thought,  and,  instead  of  dis- 
posing the  mind  to  reverence,  would  fill  it  with  confusion 
and  doubt.  And  it  can  not  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  if, 
with  the  difficulty  before  them,  they  prefer  to  hold  fast  to 
a  truth  they  certainly  know,  and  to  pass  by  what  is  so  com- 
pletely at  variance  with  all  their  habits  of  thought. 

11.  A  second  influence  adverse  to  the  belief  in  mira- 
cle springs  from  the  natural  history  of  religion.  When 
we  compare  the  religions  of  the  world  in  their  origin  and 
growth,  it  is  remarkable  that  miracle  is  a  constant  element 
of  them  all.  From  the  lowest  fetichism  upward,  this  is  a 
characteristic  feature,  varying,  it  is  true,  according  to  the 
genius  of  the  nation,  but  expressing  the  same  underlying 
conception.  In  the  higher  forms  of  faith,  miracle  is  the  spe- 
cial attribute  of  those  who  stand  near  to  God,  and  mediate 
between  him  and  their  brethren.  It  matters  not  whether 
the  teachers  have  themselves  claimed  the  power  or  repu- 
diated it ;  the  deep  impression  they  have  left  upon  the 
minds  of  their  countrymen  is  the  fertile  source  of  legend 
and  tradition.  Thus,  for  instance,  the  founders  of  Buddh- 
ism and  Islam,  the  great  historic  faiths,  which  at  the  pres- 
ent moment  dispute  with  Christianity  the  empire  of  the 
world,  consistently  protested  against  being  thought  wonder- 
workers. Yet,  in  spite  of  their  protests,  the  imagination  of 
subsequent  generations  has  encircled  their  persons  with  a 
halo  of  supernatural  glory,  and  credited  them  with  mira- 
cles that  are  equally  marvelous  with  those  recorded  in  the 
Gospels.  It  has  been  asked,  therefore,  Have  we  not  here  a 
natural  tendency  of  the  human  heart,  to  which  we  may 
trace  the  origin  of  miraculous  narratives  of  every  kind, 
even  of  the  Christian  ones  ?  Must  we  not  regard  them  all 
alike  as  the  offspring  of  the  religious  imagination,  and  treat 
them  simply  as  .the  poetical  form  in  which  great  truths  are 
vividly  presented  to  us  ?     There  is  here,  observe,  no  ques- 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  79 

tion  of  imposture  or  willful  deception.  From  tbis  point  of 
view  miracles  are  only  representations,  under  material  em- 
blems, of  tbougbts  and  feelings  wbicb  bave  been  called 
into  being  by  tbe  spiritual  teaching  of  a  messenger  of  God 
— reflections,  in  tbe  world  of  sense,  of  tbe  workings  of  tbe 
mind — and  to  tbe  multitude,  ever  eager  for  type  and  sym- 
bol, indispensable,  tbe  natural  accompaniments  of  all  re- 
ligion. Hence  it  is,  too,  tbat  tbey  linger  lovingly  round 
tbe  point  of  origin  of  tbe  faitb,  and  gradually  disappear 
as  we  travel  onward.  Tbey  cluster  round  tbe  person  and 
career  of  tbe  propbet,  and  invest  bim  witb  powers  corre- 
sponding to  tbe  influence  be  bas  exerted.  Tbe  results  of  bis 
teacbing  are  referred  back  to  tbe  time  wben  it  was  first 
proclaimed,  and  feeling  and  imagination  conspire  to  picture 
tbat  as  tbe  golden  age  of  tbe  faitb,  tbe  age  wben  tbe  gates 
of  heaven  stood  open,  and  earth  was  bathed  in  a  brighter 
radiance  than  the  "light  of  common  day."  Miracles  thus 
belong  to  the  poetry  of  religion  :  they  are  a  recollection  of 
its  fresh  and  buoyant  youth. 

III.  The  third  influence  adverse  to  tbe  belief  in  miracles 
to  which  we  shall  refer  comes  from  the  realm  of  theology 
itself,  wben  the  authorship  and  constitution  of  the  Chris- 
tian records  are  brought  into  tbe  discussion.  By  their  very 
nature,  appealing  as  they  do  to  the  senses,  miracles  address 
themselves  to  eye-witnesses  alone.  Whatever  may  be  their 
value  as  evidences  for  truth,  be  it  little  or  much,  it  is  lim- 
ited to  tbe  time  of  their  occurrence.  To  succeedins:  ajres, 
belief  in  them  comes  at  second-hand,  through  tbe  medium 
of  tradition,  oral  or  written  ;  and  tbe  trustworthiness  of  the 
tradition  is  tbe  measure  of  tbe  stability  of  tbe  belief.  To 
establish  the  reality  of  events  so  rare  and  apart  from  ordi- 
nary experience,  tbe  clearest  testimony  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary ;  and  therefore  the  reception  of  tbe  New  Testament 
miracles  turns  upon  the  position  and  weight  allowed  to  tbe 
Gospels.     With  tbis  question,  however,  we  at  once  enter 


80  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  [sermon  v. 

upon  the  domain  of  historical  criticism  :  and,  whatever  he 
the  decision  there,  the  title  of  that  decision  to  be  received 
depends  exclusively  upon  the  fairness  with  which  the  in- 
quiry has  been  conducted  ;  for  the  right  to  treat  such  toj^ics 
critically  can  no  longer  be  denied,  and  the  right  once  con- 
ceded involves  the  possibility  of  different  answers  being 
given.  Say  with  some,  indeed,  that  the  inspiration  of  the 
evangelists  was  such  as  to  preserve  them  from  all  error,  and 
of  course  the  question  falls  to  the  ground.  The  mere  fact 
that  the  miracles  are  recorded  is  of  itself  sufficient,  and  there 
is  no  room  left  for  discussion.  But,  putting  aside  such  an 
untenable  theory,  surely  no  one  who  has  regard  to  the  origin 
of  the  Gospels — to  their  rise  out  of  the  mass  of  floating  tra- 
dition, to  their  distance  in  point  of  time  from  the  events 
narrated,  to  the  freedom  with  which  they  treat  the  Old  Tes- 
tament Scriptures,  to  the  temper  of  the  age  which  we  have 
already  noticed — surely  no  one  who  has  regard  to  all  this 
can  maintain  their  character  to  be  such  as  to  exclude  the 
possibility  that  they  have  received  the  impress  of  the  modes 
of  thought  familiar  to  the  early  Church.  The  composite 
structure  of  the  narrative  forbids  us  to  demand  that  the 
whole  of  the  tradition  shall  be  received  without  distinction, 
or  to  insist  that  the  rejection  of  any  part,  no  matter  what, 
is  at  once  a  heinous  sin  and  a  deadly  injury  to  revelation. 
It  is  the  recognition  of  this  composite  structure  which  in- 
duces many  to  stumble  at  the  miracles  of  the  Gospel.  They 
simply  take  up  the  position  that  in  none  of  the  records 
which  have  been  preserved  do  we  possess  the  clear  and  suffi- 
cient testimony  necessary  to  constrain  belief  in  such  events  : 
and  therefore,  while  they  pay  homage  to  the  revelation  with 
heart  and  understanding,  and  confess  its  power  and  beauty, 
in  the  miracles  they  only  see  the  result  of  the  j^revailing  ten- 
dency to  embody  spiritual  truth  in  material  form. 

These,  then,  are,  we  think,  three  principal  sources  of  the 
shrinking  from  miracle  characteristic  of  our  own  day.    And 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  81 

the  question  immediately  suggests  itself,  What  effect  has 
the  rejection  of  miracle  upon  Christianity  ?  Is  it  possible 
at  once  to  believe  in  the  revelation  of  Christ,  and  yet  to  set 
aside  Avhat  has  hitherto  formed  so  important  a  part  of  the 
historical  narrative  ?  To  some,  the  answer  will  come  with- 
out hesitation.  To  deny  the  miracles  is,  in  their  eyes,  not 
only  to  impoverish  the  revelation,  but  to  rob  it  of  its  dis- 
tinctive features,  and  leave  only  a  residuum  of  moral  pre- 
cepts. It  is  to  sacrifice  Christianity,  and  to  put  one's  self 
without  the  pale  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  A  calmer  judg- 
ment will  hesitate  to  pronounce  so  sweeping  a  verdict. 
The  change  in  the  circumstances  of  Christianity  has  taught 
us  to  distinguish  the  relative  proportions  of  its  doctrines  ; 
and  where,  as  among  ourselves,  its  truths  are  the  birthright 
of  the  community,  and  its  influence  has  created  habits  of 
thought,  to  suppose  that  its  right  of  possession  can  be  dan- 
gerously affected  by  the  denial  of  miracle  is  to  misappre- 
hend its  power  and  essence.  The  chief  interest  which  the 
Church  of  to-day  has  in  the  signs  and  wonders  recorded  in 
the  Gospels  is  a  scientific  one,  lying  in  the  direction  of  the 
philosophy  of  religion,  in  the  field  of  historical  speculation. 
The  problem  concerns  the  origin  of  the  faith,  and  may  be 
stated  thus  :  How  are  we  to  account  for  the  celestial  radi- 
ance which  enveloped  Christianity  at  its  birth,  and  was 
shortly  afterward  extinguished  ?  One  answer  is,  that  the 
tendency,  rising  almost  to  an  instinct,  of  the  human  mind 
to  make  extraordinary  phenomena  in  nature  the  attendants 
of  every  new  moral  and  spiritual  impulse,  in  proportion  as 
the  impulse  is  felt  to  be  regenerative,  is  of  itself  sufficient 
to  explain  the  miraculous  narratives  which  have  come  down 
to  us.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  said  that  at  that  time  the 
continuity  of  history  was  broken,  and  the  Christian  severed 
from  the  pre-Christian  era  ;  that  Christianity  was  in  fact 
an  absolutely  new  beginning,  independent  of  historical  con- 
ditions, and  witnessed  to  by  special  interferences  with  the 


82  ^-4  ^V  ^ND  MIRA  CLE.  [sermon  v, 

ordinary  course  of  nature.  But  these  opposing  views  both 
belong  to  the  theoretical  side  of  Christian  thought,  and  he 
who  supports  the  former  does  not  therefore  deny  the  truth 
of  the  revelation.  No  doubt  his  creed  will  not  formally 
correspond  with  that  of  his  neighbor  who  holds  the  alter- 
native opinion  ;  the  outlines  will  be  filled  up  differently, 
and  in  quieter  tones  ;  in  particular,  the  one  will  ascribe  to 
the  immanent  power  of  God  what  the  other  ascribes  to  his 
extraneous  and  incidental  action.  Yet  such  a  difference 
can  not  be  said  to  prejudice,  far  less  to  be  fatal  to,  the  in- 
terests of  religion.  So  far  as  these  are  involved,  a  true 
faith  in  Christ  may  be  modified  by,  but  does  not  depend 
upon,  belief  in  the  miracles  :  it  is  in  the  immediate  con- 
sciousness of  his  spiritual  power  that  the  aim  and  scope  of 
his  mission  are  perceived,  and  that  his  word  becomes  "  a  light 
unto  the  feet  and  a  lamp  unto  the  path."  And  therefore,  to 
insist  that  no  one  who  rejects  the  miracles  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament may  claim  to  be  a  Christian,  is  intolerance  which 
ought  to  be  resisted.  It  directly  tends  to  drive  away  from 
the  faith  men  who  are  neither  vain  nor  uncultured,  but  rev- 
erent and  thoughtful ;  men,  however,  who  are  so  strongly 
impressed  by  the  revelation  of  Nature,  that  any  teaching 
which  is  at  variance  with  her  already  known  truths  is,  un- 
less it  comes  with  irresistible  authority,  at  once  decisively 
rejected.  Yet  intolerance  such  as  this  is  the  natural  result 
of  a  blind  Bibliolatry  which,  refusing  to  distinguish  between 
Christianity  in  itself  and  the  New  Testament  its  historical 
record,  assumes  that  Christianity  was  necessarily  purest 
near  its  source,  and  that,  lower  down,  we  may  only  look 
for  sullied  waters.  The  very  opposite  is  the  fact.  Near 
the  source,  the  turbid  stream  of  Judaism  poured  into  the 
pure  current  of  our  Saviour's  teaching,  and  the  mingled 
waters  were  dark  and  troubled.  It  is  only  as  we  descend 
that  the  foreign  matter  then  held  in  solution  is  gradually 
precipitated,  and  the  river  of  the  water  of  life  flows  on 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIEAGLE.  83 

more  clear.  At  the  beginning,  Christianity,  deeply  tinged 
with  Judaic  elements,  was  in  the  utmost  danger  of  becom- 
ing merely  a  new  form  of  the  national  religion.  The  fea- 
ture of  the  apostolic  age  was  the  Church's  struggle  for  in- 
dependence of  the  Law  ;  it  was  by  degrees  that  her  free- 
dom was  won,  by  degrees  that  she  was  successful  in  reject- 
ing what  was  distinctively  Mosaic.  In  spreading  over  large 
areas,  it  became  necessary  to  speak  to  man  as  man,  and  not 
as  a  member  of  a  particular  nation  ;  and  therefore  Christi- 
anity fell  back  upon  the  general  principles  essential  to  its 
existence,  and  allowed  local  disputes  and  Jewish  prejudice 
to  fade  away  unheeded.  And  the  process  is  not  yet  com- 
plete. As  the  generations  pass,  we  learn,  as  we  have  said, 
to  see  more  clearly  what  are  the  divine  and  eternal,  what 
the  human  and  transitory,  elements  of  the  revelation.  "We 
become  able  to  distinguish  between  what  is  essential  and 
what  is  not ;  and  as  the  latter  drops  into  the  background — 
whether  it  be  miracle,  or  apostolic  ordinance,  or  the  cling- 
ing remnants  of  that  Judaism  which  puts  assent  to  dogma 
in  place  of  faith — the  grandeur,  and  beauty,  and  educating 
power  of  the  revelation  of  Christ  are  felt  only  the  more, 
and  command  a  more  reverent  homage.  The  letter  of 
Scripture  opens  up  to  disclose  the  spirit ;  the  universal 
principles  of  our  Saviour's  teaching  are  made  plain;  its 
bold  and  generous  outlines  are  thrown  into  relief  and  sat- 
isfy the  mental  vision  ;  and  the  truth  of  his  message  is 
verified,  not  by  any  outward  testimony,  but  by  the  com- 
munion of  spirit  with  spirit,  by  the  response  of  our  own 
hearts  to  his  revelation  of  the  Father. 

It  only  remains  to  notice  very  briefly  the  teaching  of 
our  Lord,  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again  he  can  not  see  the 
kingdom  of  God."  "With  these  words.  He  excludes  the  ap- 
peal to  outward  tests  of  revelation,  and  refers  us  to  a  spir- 
itual standard.  The  soul  that  in  his  presence  becomes  con- 
scious of  his  influence  has  in  itself  a  witness  to  his  truth, 


84  LAW  AND  MIBACLE.  [sermon  v. 

beside  whicli  no  other  witness  is  once  to  be  named.  The 
life  of  Christ  and  the  power  of  his  Spirit  over  man  are  the 
great  and  the  enduring  miracles  of  divine  revelation. 

The  secret  of  Christianity,  let  us  remember,  can  only  be 
"spiritually  discerned."  To  be  well  acquainted  with  the 
Gospel  history,  and  versant  with  systems  of  theology,  is 
something  quite  distinct  from  being  true  followers  of  Christ. 
The  belief  that  rests  upon  such  attainments  is  purely  intel- 
lectual, and  goes  into  the  same  category  as  belief  about 
Plato,  or  Cicero,  or  the  tenets  of  the  Stoics.  It  may  be 
held  without  seriously  influencing  character,  without  evok- 
ing any  personal  devotion  or  sense  of  God's  nearness,  and 
from  it  we  shall  get  no  immediate  or  convincing  proof  of 
the  truth  of  our  religion.  But,  when  we  come  into  contact 
Vfith  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  the  revelation  speaks  home  to  us 
in  a  different  way,  and  discovers  its  spiritual  wealth  ;  it 
meets  the  cravings  of  our  nature,  and  tells  us  that  these,  far 
from  being  delusions,  are  the  highest  instincts  of  human- 
ity. Under  the  burden  of  sin,  and  the  felt  discordance  in 
our  being,  the  soul  of  man  cries  out  for  the  living  God. 
The  dream  of  the  spirit  is  to  be  delivered  from  its  weakness 
and  unrest,  from  imprisonment  in  its  present  bonds,  into  a 
purer  and  fuller  life,  in  which  its  haunting  visions  of  holi- 
ness and  peace  and  self-control  shall  come  true,  and  achieve- 
ment, no  longer  baffled  by  a  recreant  will  and  halting  en- 
ergies, shall  follow  hard  on  aspiration.  That  ideal  has  been 
realized  in  Christ  ;  and  the  spiritual  impulse  which  imagi- 
nation and  reflection  could  not  by  themselves  originate  has 
been  given  to  humanity  by  the  life  and  death  of  the  Son  of 
Man.  To  enter  into  fellowship  with  him  is  at  once  to  be 
delivered  from  the  overwhelming  consciousness  of  infinite 
power,  which,  hidden  in  the  depths  of  space,  no  cry  can 
reach  and  no  suffering  move,  and  to  find  ourselves  the 
objects  of  a  Father's  care  ;  it  is  to  be  assured  of  the  Divine 
goodness,  and  clemency,  and  sorrow  for  the  sins  of  men. 


FERGUSON.]  LAW  AND  MIRACLE.  85 

and  to  be  taught  that  our  highest  life  depends  upon  submis- 
sion to  the  will  of  God  ;  it  is  to  learn  that  the  whole  course 
of  God's  providence  and  government  helps  forward  the 
education  of  his  children,  and  that  the  external  conditions, 
against  which  we  sometimes  chafe  and  fret,  are,  in  the  very- 
steadfastness  of  their  laws,  the  pledge  and  earnest  of  his 
purpose  to  complete  that  education  ;  it  is,  in  a  word,  to 
know  that  our  nature,  hemmed  in  and  sinful  though  it  be, 
is  yet  akin  to  the  divine,  and  can  find  its  rest  in  God  alone. 
A  revelation  such  as  this,  which  discloses  the  true  relations 
between  earth  and  heaven,  can  afford  to  dispense  with  out- 
ward testimony  of  whatever  kind.  The  best  witness  to  its 
truth  is  to  be  found  in  our  own  consciousness,  in  its  acknowl- 
edged power  to  satisfy  the  wants  and  to  develop  the  capa- 
cities of  the  soul.  "The  Spirit  beareth  witness  with  our 
spirit "  ;  and  in  communion  with  God,  delivered  from  the 
pressure  of  fear  and  the  bondage  of  selfishness,  the  whole 
nature  is  strengthened,  the  balance  of  its  powers  is  restored, 
and  a  genial  influence  quickens  intellect  and  conscience  and 
will.  The  faith  which  then  possesses  the  mind  does  not 
rest  upon  argument,  nor  does  it  require  to  call  authority  to 
its  aid.  It  has  all  the  certainty  and  spontaneousness  of  in- 
stinct or  natural  endowment,  and  is  at  once  the  living  spring 
of  our  conscious  action,  and  the  consecrating  principle  of 
our  unconscious  influence.  It  is  a  faith  that  can  not  be 
overthrown  ;  and  amid  the  changes  of  history,  amid  the 
variations  of  dogmatic  systems  and  ecclesiastical  organiza- 
tions, amid  the  "  time  and  chance "  of  the  human  lot,  its 
confident  expression  is  in  the  noble  words  of  the  apostle  : 
"  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor  angels  nor 
principalities  nor  powers,  nor  things  present  nor  things  to 
come,  nor  height  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall 
be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 


86  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  [seemon  vi. 


YI. 

THE  VISION  OF  GOD. 

BY  THE  REV.  D.  J.  FERGUSON,  B.  D.,  STRATHBLANE. 

"  Philip  saith  unto  him,  Lord,  sliew  us  the  Father,  and  it  suf- 
ficetli  us.  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Have  I  been  so  long  time  with  you, 
and  yet  hast  thou  not  known  me,  Philip?  He  that  hath  seen  me 
hath  seen  the  Father ;  and  how  sayest  thou  then,  Shew  us  the 
Father?  "—John  xiv,  8,  9. 

It  takes  little  reflection  or  experience  to  make  us  aware 
that  on  every  hand  we  are  beset  by  mystery  and  contradic- 
tion. God  has  placed  us  within  a  system  of  rigid,  univer- 
sal law.  He  has  hedged  us  in  with  conditions  upon  which 
our  very  existence  depends,  yet  which  we  can  understand 
only  in  part.  We  have  hardly  crossed  the  threshold  of  life 
before  we  find  ourselves  in  a  maze  of  problems,  practical 
and  theoretical,  of  action  and  of  thought,  through  which 
we  can  see  only  a  little  way  ;  we  walk  in  twilight  and  must 
pick  our  steps.  Duty  seems  to  clash  with  duty,  motive  with 
motive,  and  the  mind  to  be  divided  against  itself.  Truth 
is  opposed  to  truth  in  bewildering  confusion  ;  and  when  we 
would  follow  out  one,  to  what  seems  its  legitimate  issue,  we 
find  ourselves  at  variance  with  another  not  less  important 
and  not  less  sure.  And  it  is  when  we  try  to  reconcile  such 
hostile  principles,  to  apportion  to  each  its  own  province, 
and  hold  them  consistently  together  in  thought,  that  we 
become  most  conscious,  sometimes  most  painfully  conscious, 
of  the  finite  range  of  our  faculties,  and  learn  to  spell  out 
the  alphabet  of  patience  and  humility. 


FEKousoN.]  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  87 

Take,  for  instance,  one  of  the  great  contradictions  of 
our  minds.  At  one  time,  we  seem  to  ourselves  to  be  free 
agents.  We  know  that  we  are  responsible  for  conduct,  and 
have  the  power  to  choose  our  course  of  action.  The  con- 
ditions of  life  furnish  so  much  material  for  the  will  to  work 
on,  and  mold  into  definite  form.  But,  again,  we  seem  no 
less  to  be  bound  down  by  an  iron  necessity.  We  are  the 
creatures  of  circumstances  and  passively  molded  by  exter- 
nal influences.  We  are  hurried  along  by  currents  of  habit 
and  instinct  and  predisposition,  and  act  as  if  we  were  ma- 
chines. 

So  too  in  the  sphere  of  the  religious  life,  we  are  met  by 
the  struggle  between  good  and  evil  in  our  natures.  It  is 
the  opposition  between  what  the  apostle  calls  the  old  and 
the  new  man,  between  Adam  and  Christ.  The  flesh  lusting 
against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh,  give  rise 
to  a  conflict  which  extends  not  only  to  outward  action,  but 
also  to  our  inmost  thoughts,  and,  in  a  most  marked  way,  to 
our  conceptions  of  spiritual  truth.  To  give  the  higher  ele- 
ments of  our  being  the  control  of  the  lower  is  life  and 
peace  in  a  spiritual  faith  :  in  proportion  as  the  balance  is 
reversed,  it  becomes  increasingly  diflicult  to  preserve  any 
faith  in  the  spiritual  at  all. 

Belief  in  the  spiritual  runs  like  a  silver  thread  through 
the  whole  tissue  of  life.  It  gives  color  to  our  noblest 
thoughts,  and  inspires  our  highest  hopes.  Yet  the  spirit- 
ual is  bound  up  with,  and  practically  inseparable  from,  our 
knowledge  of  the  material ;  it  always  works  in  and  through 
some  external  form.  Therefore  it  is  that  Ave  clothe  it  with 
a  body,  and  give  it  "a  local  habitation  and  a  name"  ;  we 
limit  and  define  it,  and  in  this  way  there  arises  the  common 
idea  of  personality. 

So  it  comes  to  pass  that,  when  we  try  to  rise  from  the 
idea  of  finite  spirit  to  the  thought  of  God,  the  Infinite, 
"  without  body,  parts,  or  passions,"  we  find  ourselves  in  a 


88  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  [sermon  vi. 

region  where  the  ground  seems  to  be  slipping  away  from 
under  us.  The  atmosphere  becomes  too  rarefied  for  us  to 
breathe  freely  ;  the  exertion  it  demands  brings  too  severe 
a  tension  upon  our  powers,  and  we  sink  down  exhausted, 
and  glad  to  return  to  the  ordinary  level  of  thought.  It  is 
as  if  we  turned  our  eyes  upon  the  sun,  only  to  find  that, 
though  himself  "the  very  source  and  fount  of  day,"  his 
brightness  passes  into  darkness,  and  makes  us  fain  to  be 
content  with  reflections  of  his  glory. 

It  is  easy,  therefore,  to  understand  why  men  in  all  ages 
have  worshiped  gods  made  after  the  likeness  of  humanity. 
The  tendency  to  conceive  of  the  Deity  as  a  magnified  man 
can  not  be  got  rid  of.  Go  to  the  classical  mythologies,  for 
instance,  and  the  gods  of  Olympus  are  only  projections,  upon 
a  large  canvas,  of  the  figures  of  their  suppliants.  Or  turn 
to  the  Hebrew  Scriptures.  Jehovah  is  there  represented  as 
the  great  Potentate,  who  "  sits  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth, 
and  the  inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grasshoppers."  In  a 
special  manner,  He  is  the  God  of  Israel.  He  is  swayed  by 
human  motives,  and  acts  under  the  limitations  of  the  national 
character.  Anger  and  complacency,  jealousy  and  favor, 
determination  and  repentance,  are  ascribed  to  him  on  every 
hand  :  and,  grand  as  is  the  conception  of  the  Divine  Being 
in  the  noblest  of  the  ancient  books,  the  basis  of  the  concep- 
tion is,  in  the  last  instance,  the  character  of  the  pious  Israel- 
ite. It  is  the  especial  glory  of  Christianity  to  teach  that 
"  God  is  a  Spirit ;  and  they  that  worship  him  must  worship 
him  in  spirit  and  in  truth  "  ;  and  by  that  teaching  to  sum- 
mon all  nations  to  a  common  worship  and  a  common  faith. 

And  yet  there  are  many  in  the  Christian  Church  who 
fail  to  grasp  this,  the  central  truth  of  Christ's  teaching.  To 
think  of  a  person  is  to  them  the  same  as  to  think  of  certain 
lineaments  and  form  :  and  therefore  when  they  woixld  medi- 
tate upon  God,  the  Creator,  Ruler,  and  Sustainer  of  the 
universe,  they  are  forced  to  picture  bim  in  human  likeness. 


FERGUSON.]  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  89 

Seated  somewhere  in  infinite  space,  enthroned  above  the 
worlds,  is,  they  imagine,  the  Eternal  in  the  infinitely  magni- 
fied form  of  man.  Without  some  such  concrete  foundation, 
their  thought  of  God  could  not  maintain  itself,  but  would 
vanish  into  thin  air.  And  it  is  not  strange,  therefore,  to 
find  this  faith  developing  in  the  direction  of  ritual  or  dog- 
ma. Of  the  earth,  earthy,  it  can  not  possibly  lift  itself 
above  the  range  of  earthly  gravitation. 

It  seems  to  us  that,  in  the  passage  before  us,  Philip 
represents  this  material  tendency,  and  gives  expression  to 
the  craving  for  a  visible  Deity.  He  had  been  of  our  Lord's 
company  from  the  beginning,  of  the  inner  circle  of  the 
twelve.  He  had  listened  to  the  public  teaching  of  Christ, 
and  had  been  privileged  to  hear  his  Master's  intimate  dis- 
course with  friends.  He  had  thus  continually  before  him 
the  holy  life  and  character,  the  infinite  power  and  sympa- 
thy, of  Christ :  and  yet,  after  all,  he  had  utterly  failed  to 
grasp  the  spiritual  nature  of  our  Saviour's  revelation  of  God. 
One  of  the  apostles,  entering  into  the  scope  of  his  mission, 
had  already  confessed  him  to  be  "  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God."  Yet  here  we  have  a  brother-disciple,  unable 
even  at  the  end  of  our  Lord's  career  to  follow  out  the 
meaning  of  that  confession,  unable  to  rise  above  the  realm 
of  sense,  and  lift  his  thoughts  into  the  sphere  of  spiritual 
life,  and  asking,  "  Shew  us  the  Father,  and  it  sulliceth  us." 

What  was  our  Saviour's  answer?  "Jesus  saith  unto 
him,  Have  I  been  so  long  time  with  you,  and  yet  hast  thou 
not  known  me,  Philip  ?  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen 
the  Father  ;  and  how  sayest  thou  then,  Shew  us  the  Fa- 
ther?" Could  speech  be  more  thrilling  in  its  pathos? 
One  can  almost  see  the  look  turned  upon  the  questioner  ; 
one  can  almost  hear  the  disappointed,  reproachful  tones  of 
that  reply.  And  surely  it  was  not  the  least  bitter  drop  in 
the  Saviour's  cup  that,  at  the  close  of  his  mission,  when  He 
felt  his  hours  were  numbered,  He  should  know  his  teaching 


90  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  [sekmon  vi. 

misunderstood  by  his  most  intimate  friends.  Not  yet  was 
He  to  see  of  the  travail  of  his  soul  and  be  satisfied.  He 
had  to  meet  his  doom,  bereft  even  of  the  sustaining  power  of 
sympathy,  with  the  conviction  forced  upon  him,  that  they 
to  whom  He  had  specially  ministered  were  still  clinging  to 
the  present,  valuing  the  material  above  the  spiritual,  the 
earthly  above  the  heavenly,  the  seen  above  the  unseen.  If 
it  be  lawful  to  use  such  language,  there  is,  in  these  sad,  re- 
proachful words,  a  half-consciousness  of  failure. 

Now,  there  is  one  great  lesson  to  be  learned  from  the 
text,  viz.,  that  our  common  human  nature  is  the  most  per- 
fect revelation  of  God. 

The  point  of  our  Lord's  answer  evidently  is  that  Philip, 
having  had  the  life  of  Christ  before  him,  should  have  been 
able  to  recoo-nize  in  it  a  manifestation  of  the  Divine.  The 
purity  and  self-forgetfulness  which  it  displayed  were  true 
reflections  of  the  mind  of  God,  and  as  such  they  would  have 
appeared  to  the  apostle,  had  he  not  been  held  in  the  bonds 
of  sense.  And  thus  our  Lord  has  taught  us,  that  what  is 
good  and  true  on  earth  is  good  and  true  in  heaven,  and  that 
the  moral  and  spiritual  perceptions  of  the  human  mind  are 
worthy  of  perfect  trust.  Justice  and  mercy  and  righteous- 
ness, as  we  know  them  here,  are  counterparts  of  justice  and 
mercy  and  righteousness  as  they  are  in  God.  The  Divine 
goodness  differs  from  what  approves  itself  to  us  as  good- 
ness, not  in  kind  but  in  degree  :  "  His  ways  are  higher  than 
our  ways,  and  his  thoughts  than  our  thoughts."  Doubtless 
it  is  said  that  He  judges  differently  from  man  ;  but  that  is 
because  He  sees  more  clearly  than  we  do,  because  all  things 
are  naked  and  open  before  him,  and  not  because  his  justice 
is  essentially  different  from  ours.  In  short,  our  Lord  has 
told  us  that,  to  the  limit  of  its  power,  the  soul  of  man  is  a 
faithful  witness  for  God  ;  and  that  the  life  which  is  governed 
by  loyalty  to  truth  and  righteousness  is  in  reality  one  with 
him,  the  dwelling-place  of  his  Spirit,  his  continual  revelation. 


FERGUSON.]  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  91 

We  need  not,  therefore,  ask  where  we  may  find  him,  or 
fancy  that,  if  we  could  wing  our  flight  through  the  infinities 
of  space,  we  should  at  length  come  upon  his  sanctuary. 
God's  chosen  dwelling  is  the  humble  contrite  spirit :  the 
pure  in  heart,  and  they  alone,  can  see  him.  Let  our  eyes 
once  be  opened,  and,  like  the  prophet's  servant  of  old,  we 
shall  see  that  on  every  side  we  are  surrounded  by  his  pres- 
ence. There  are  sanctities  of  life  and  duty,  of  home  and 
affection,  of  sympathy  and  helpfulness,  of  penitence  and 
prayer,  v.hich  daily  speak  of  him  to  those  who  will  lend  an 
ear.  Let  these  be  neglected  or  profaned,  and  we  need  not 
wonder  if  earth  loses  its  consecration  and  speaks  no  more 
of  God.  Let  them  be  reverenced,  and  wherever,  in  the 
history  of  mankind  or  among  our  fellows,  we  observe  lives 
moved  by  high  aspiration,  cherishing  loyalty  to  duty,  and 
that  reverence  for  goodness  and  truth  which  speaks  of 
the  great  destiny  to  be  afterward  revealed,  we  must  also 
acknowledge  the  revelation  of  the  Most  High. 

But,  if  in  our  common  nature  we  get  this  revelation,  it 
is  in  Christ  himself  that  we  get  it  in  its  most  perfect  form. 

The  types  and  metaphors  we  employ  in  speaking  of  the 
atonement  must  not  be  used  so  as  to  overshadow  or  distort 
the  great  truth  that  He  came  to  show  us  the  Father.  By 
giving  us  this  revelation.  He  became  the  mediator  of  a  new 
communion  between  God  and  man.  In  the  lives  of  the 
sages  and  prophets  of  every  nation  reflections  of  the  Divine 
nature  have  been  given.  Therefore,  their  fellows  listened 
to  them,  and  received  a  fresh  impulse  from  them.  Still, 
these  have  been  only  broken  lights,  single-colored  rays 
which  require  to  be  gathered  into  one,  before  we  see  the 
pure  white  light  of  absolute  goodness.  Such  a  focus  we 
have  in  the  life  of  Christ.  And  therefore  we  turn  to  him, 
"  the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory  and  the  express  image 
of  his  person,"  to  obtain  a  true  idea  of  what  God  is,  and  of 
what  our  relation  to  God  ought  to  be.     His  holy  life  leads  us 


92  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  [sermon  vr. 

into  a  nobler,  tenderer,  more  humane  faith  in  our  heavenly 
Father,  and  challenges  oyir  reverence  and  admiration  by  the 
inherent  power  and  beauty  of  goodness.  In  every  depart- 
ment of  life,  but  especially  in  the  sphere  of  moral  and  reli- 
gious truth,  it  is  comparatively  easy  to  apprehend  and  value, 
but  difficult  to  originate  and  plan.  In  art,  in  science,  in 
literature,  there  are  thousands  who  can  appreciate  the  mas- 
terpieces of  genius,  for  one  who  is  able  to  create  and  exe- 
cute. This  last  is  the  test  of  the  Divine  fire.  And  so,  in 
like  manner,  the  purity  of  Christ  appeals  to  us.  We  can 
not  find  it  in  ourselves  ;  but,  when  it  is  presented  to  us,  we 
recognize  its  claims  to  our  reverent  homage  and  obedience. 
It  speaks  to  us  of  higher  things,  and  shows  us  the  possibili- 
ties in  our  nature  of  approaching  God.  And  then  the  closer 
we  draw  near  our  Lord,  the  more  does  his  chai-acter  open 
up  to  our  devout  contemi^lation,  and  his  revelation  itself 
expand.  We  are  told  that,  while  the  planets  are  revolving 
round  the  sun,  the  sun  himself,  with  his  attendant  train,  is 
sw^eeping  toward  a  point  in  space  so  remote  that  the  ima- 
gination fails  to  picture  to  itself  the  immensity  of  the  curve. 
And  so,  too,  to  the  faithful  follower  of  Christ,  revelation 
develops  into  a  nobler  range,  and  teaches  him  to  see  the 
whole  universe  in  ever-widening  cycles,  centering  upon  God. 
Finally,  as  it  is  our  great  privilege  to  keep  the  life  of 
Christ  before  us  as  the  highest  revelation  of  what  our 
heavenly  Father  is  :  so,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  our  boun- 
den  duty  to  see  that  our  religious  conceptions  do  not  run 
counter  to  his  teaching.  It  is  our  bounden  duty  to  cast  out 
of  our  belief  in  God  every  element  that  could  enter  into 
conflict  with  his  blessed  life,  and  to  reject  any  view  of  the 
relations  between  God  and  man,  no  matter  how  strongly 
upheld,  which  is  at  variance  wath  the  primary  moral  instinct 
of  the  human  soul.  If  we  have  been  accustomed  to  ap- 
proach God  with  hearts  mistrustful  of  the  kindness  of  his 
feelings  toward  us  ;  if  our  religion  has  been  poisoned  by 


FERccsoN.]  THE   VISION  OF  GOD.  93 

fear,  and  the  wings  of  our  affections  clipped  by  suspicion, 
and  the  understanding  fettered  by  unworthy  thoughts  of 
his  character  and  will  ;  if,  after  the  dictates  of  a  cruel  tra- 
dition, we  have  pictured  him  as  an  unjust  despot,  who 
brings  myriads  into  being  in  order  to  consign  them  to  utter 
darkness  and  despair— if  this  be  the  idol  of  our  own  imagi- 
nation we  have  professed  to  worship,  let  us  go  back  in  all 
simplicity  of  heart  to  the  life  of  Christ,  and  bring  our  belief 
into  accordance  with  what  we  learn  from  it.  There  will 
be  no  need  then  for  us  to  say  with  Philip,  "Lord,  shew  us 
the  Father,  and  it  sufficeth  us."  We  shall  see  him  in  the 
face  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  our  hearts  will  respond  to  the 
Saviour's  answer,  "  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the 
Father." 


94  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.         [sermon  vii. 


VII. 
CONSEKYATIO]^    AND    CHANGE. 

BY   THE   RET.    PROFESSOR   KNIGHT,    LL.  D.,    ST.    ANDREWS. 

"Far  be  it,  far  be  it  from  me,  that  I  sbould  swallow  up  or  de- 
stroy.    The  matter  is  not  so." — 2  Samuel  xx,  20,  21. 

"  Violence  shall  no  more  be  heard  in  thy  land,  wasting  nor  de- 
struction within  thy  borders." — Isaiah  Ix,  18. 

These  two  sentences  taken  together  suggest  a  few 
thoughts  on  tendencies  which  are  threatening  the  old  order 
of  things  in  Church  and  State  alike  ;  and  which  affect  both 
our  secular  life  and  our  religious  experience. 

The  saying  of  Joab  to  the  wise  woman  of  Abel,  "  one 
of  the  peaceable  and  faithful  in  Israel,"  who  asked  that 
captain  of  the  host  why  he  came  to  destroy  a  city — "  Far 
be  it,  far  be  it  from  me  that  I  should  destroy" — we  may 
remove  from  its  context,  and  regard  it  simply  as  a  resolu- 
tion not  to  overthrow  anything  in  itself  good.  The  other 
sentence,  from  Isaiah,  refers  to  a  period  in  the  history  of 
the  Church  when  the  harsh  spirit  of  destructiveness  would 
give  place  to  the  mildness,  the  moderation,  and  the  sweet 
reasonableness  of  the  Christian  spirit.  "Violence  shall  no 
more  be  heard  in  the  land,  wasting  nor  destruction  within 
thy  borders  "  ;  as  a  little  further  on  it  is  said  that  a  crea- 
tive and  constructive  tendency  would  be  substituted  for 
the  anarchy,  the  collision,  and  the  dismemberment  of  the 
past.  "They  shall  not  hurt  or  destroy  in  all  my  holy 
mountain,  saith  the  Lord." 


KNiGiiT.J  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.  95 

It  is  usually  rash  for  any  one  to  say  what  the  chief  ten- 
dency of  his  own  age  is,  trying  to  sura  up,  in  a  single  prop- 
osition, so  complex  a  thing  as  the  spirit  of  a  generation. 
For  it  is  only  at  a  distance,  and  in  retrospect,  that  the  main 
tendency  of  any  epoch  can  be  adequately  measured  ;  when 
the  results  of  agencies  that  once  were  active  are  seen  in 
what  they  have  accomplished,  or  failed  to  accomplish.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  not  difficult  to  estimate  some  of  the 
forces  that  sway  contemporary  thought,  and  guide  the 
action  of  one's  own  time.  Many  of  these  can  be  most 
accurately  known,  and  are  most  easily  criticised,  just  as 
the  events  themselves  transpire. 

We  are  told  by  some  that  we  live  in  an  idle,  empty  age, 
devoid  of  heroism,  an  age  of  weak  assents  and  timid  com- 
promises ;  and  there  may  be  some  truth  in  the  assertion. 
But,  if  there  is,  this  is  not  the  chief  characteristic  of  our 
time.  Other  influences  are  at  work,  both  numerous  and 
subtile,  tending  to  break  up  and  to  dissolve.  Schemes  are 
inauofurated  and  movements  started  of  which  the  watch- 
word  is  destruction,  and  the  successful  issue  of  which  would 
be  the  disintegration  of  society.  If  thought  in  many  quar- 
ters is  vague,  latitudinarian,  and  indifferent,  in  others  the  tone 
and  temper  of  society  is  headstrong,  moving  blindly  and  tur- 
bulently  forward,  it  knows  not  whither.  Everywhere  "  the 
old  order  "  is  changing,  "  giving  place  to  the  new."  AVhile 
everv  ajre  is  a  time  of  transition,  ours  seems  to  be  one  of 
rapid  movement  and  continual  surprises.  No  one,  who  has 
any  capacity  for  reading  the  signs  of  the  times,  can  doubt 
that  the  tendency  to  acquiesce  and  to  make  compromise  is 
not  more  dominant  than  the  counter-tendency  to  protest,  to 
assault,  and  to  revolutionize  ;  and  to  those  who  discern  this 
fact,  it  becomes  a  question  of  grave  moment  what  their 
relation  to  the  changing  spirit  of  their  age,  and  to  the  alter- 
ations that  are  being  wrought  upon  its  current  beliefs, 
should  be.     Let  us  see,  then,  whether  in  this,  as  in  other 


96  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  [sermon  vir, 

things,  our  moderation  should  not  be  known  unto  all 
men. 

The  special  tendency  to  which  I  refer — a  tendency  sway- 
ing certain  sections  of  society,  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
— is  one  which  fastens  instinctively  upon  the  defects  rather 
than  upon  the  merits  of  the  past,  and  which  would  destroy 
the  institutions  which  we  inherit  from  our  forefathers,  be- 
cause they  now  seem  less  adequate  than  once  they  were, 
and  are  somewhat  injured  by  the  wear  and  tear  of  time.  And 
this  is  how  it  shows  itself  :  It  spends  its  strength  in  assault 
upon  existing  evils — and  sometimes  in  excitement  for  the 
redress  of  imaginary  wrongs — rather  than  in  the  prudent 
use  of  circumstances,  making  the  best  of  things  as  they  are. 
It  strives  to  abolish  the  imperfect  by  external  assault,  rather 
than  to  reform  it  from  within  by  a  new  and  higher  spirit  of 
endeavor.  It  is  loudly  affirmed  in  certain  quarters  that 
compromise  of  all  kinds  is  an  evil,  that  non-conformity — or 
the  open  expression  of  dissent  from  your  fellow-men,  when 
you  chance  to  differ  from  them — is  one  of  the  first  of 
duties  ;  and  that,  as  eveiy  party  which  happens  to  have 
ascendancy  for  a  time  ought  to  tolerate  a  dissentient  mi- 
nority, and  not  concuss  it  into  acquiescence,  the  minority 
should  not  only  claim  the  right  of  recognition,  but  should 
incessantly  and  even  noisily  assert  itself,  endeavoring  by  all 
the  means  within  its  reach  to  become  the  majority. 

That  this  kind  of  rivalry,  or  struggle  for  existence,  has 
its  uses  is  undoubted  ;  because  it  stirs  up  slumbering  en- 
ergy, and  prevents  the  supineness  that  might  otherwise 
characterize  large  masses  of  society.  It  has  always  been 
the  bane  of  conformity  that  it  breeds  indolence  and  acqui- 
escence in  things  as  they  are,  whatever  they  are.  Narrow 
men  of  fervid  temperament  relish  the  excitements  of  con- 
troversy, because  it  supplies  them  with  a  stimulus,  urging 
them  along  the  bounded  lines  of  their  vocation,  while  those 
of  broader  vision  necessarily  care  less  for  party  organization 


KNIGHT.]  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  97 

and  the  polemic  schemes  which  agitate  the  masses  of  so- 
ciety. But  they  are  singularly  apt  to  misconstrue  those 
movements  with  which  they  have  no  personal  sympathy. 
It  is  well  known  that  when  clear  vision  is  allied  to  a  calm 
temperament  there  is  a  corresponding  disinclination  to  the 
expression  of  difference,  because  of  its  accompaniments,  the 
disturbance,  the  strife,  and  the  turmoil  of  controversy. 
This,  however,  may  be  a  sign  of  indolence,  or  even  of  pusil- 
lanimity ;  and  if  to  teach  the  duty  of  moderation  and  con- 
formity were  to  encourage  an  unreflective  assent  to  current 
opinion — no  matter  what  the  opinion  might  be — rather  than 
disturb  society  by  debate,  the  collapse  of  interest  in  truth 
and  of  an  earnest  purjDosc  in  life  would  be  inevitable. 

Now,  as  in  this  world  "  all  things  are  double  one  against 
another,"  it  is  wise  to  sec  the  weak  side  of  a  principle,  even 
while  you  are  magnifying  it,  and  indicating  its  strength,  its 
value,  and  its  adequacy.  Let  it  be  admitted,  therefore, 
that  the  evil  of  compromise  is  its  tendency  to  induce  intel- 
lectual lethargy  and  a  repose  that  may  be  cowardly.  So 
much  of  truth  is  seen  to  be  associated  with  error,  so  much 
of  good  to  be  allied  with  what  is  evil,  that,  for  the  sake  of 
the  true  and  the  good,  the  error  and  the  evil  are  not  only 
tolerated,  but  deemed  trivial.  It  is  notorious  that  the  prac- 
tice of  assent  to  traditional  opinion  has  led  to  a  habit  of  in- 
difference. Even  the  virtue  of  catholicity  has  degenerated 
to  the  level  of  a  moral  weakness  ;  and  it  will  always  do  so, 
if,  while  the  eye  is  trained  to  discern  the  good,  the  judg- 
ment be  not  simultaneously  disciplined  to  reject  the  evil 
and  the  erroneous.  In  matters  both  of  opinion  and  of  con- 
duct, it  is  as  though  a  soft  and  dreamy  haze  overspread  the 
landscape,  blotting  out  the  lines  which  mark  off  one  ob- 
ject from  another  ;  and,  however  pleasant  such  a  state  of 
weather  after  the  blasts  of  controversy  and  the  storms  of 
debate,  a  very  slight  experience  of  it  will  lead  all  healthy 
minds  to  wish  for  a  return  of  the  east  wind  and  the  sea- 
6 


98  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  [sermon  rii. 

breeze,  which  dispel  the  mist  and  clear  the  firmament  of  its 
obscurities. 

JBut  then,  as  the  Preacher  of  the  Exile  reminded  his  gen- 
eration, "  to  everything  there  is  a  season,  and  a  time  for 
every  purpose  tinder  heaven'  a  time  to  destroy,  and  a  time 
to  build  up  ;  a  time  to  rend,  and  a  time  to  sew  ;  a  time  of 
war,  and  a  time  of  peace."  It  would  seem  that  the  fluctua- 
tions of  the  weather  and  the  cycle  of  changes  that  occur  in 
physical  nature  are  symbolic  of  similar  periodic  changes  in 
the  intellectual  and  moral  life  of  men.  Thus,  a  social  revolu- 
tion destroying  the  complacency  of  custom,  a- religious  refor- 
mation breaking  in  upon  the  monotony  of  tradition,  have 
their  uses.  They  are  as  valuable  as  those  periods  of  slow, 
unconscious  growth  which  tend  to  mature  individual  charac- 
ter and  to  consolidate  society.  In  the  region  of  belief  and 
action,  however,  we  may  not  accept  the  changes  that  occur 
with  the  same  complacency  with  which  we  receive  and  wel- 
come the  changes  of  the  seasons.  We  are  ourselves,  in 
part,  the  producers  of  our  own  varying  states  ;  and,  if  we 
inherit  much  from  the  past,  we  create  and  transmit  as  much 
to  the  future.  We  can  not,  therefore,  simply  accept,  in  pas- 
sive thankfulness,  what  the  past  has  bequeathed  to  us.  We 
must  endeavor  to  refashion  as  well  as  to  assimilate  what  it 
has  brought  us.  And,  to  do  this  aright,  we  must  have  some 
knowledge  of  the  temper  and  spirit  of  our  time.  We  must 
understand  its  drift,  whence  its  currents  flow,  and  whither 
they  are  tending,  if  we  are  not  to  be  its  slaves. 

Whatever  its  tendency,  however,  every  wise  man  will 
welcome  those  changes  which  are  the  result  of  the  natural 
processes  of  growth — whether  these  are  swift  or  slow — and 
will  resist  those  which  are  revolutionary,  or  rashly  destruc- 
tive of  the  past.  More  especially  will  those  Institutions 
which  we  have  inherited  from  our  forefathers  be  reverently 
preserved  and  religiously  fostered.  While  our  individual 
opinions  are  being  modified  by  all  the  light  which  an  age 


KNIGHT. J  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  99 

of  critical  research  is  accumulating,  we  do  well  to  be  jeal- 
ous of  assault  upon  the  social  organizations  which  have  come 
down  to  us  from  the  past.  Of  these  we  are  as  much  the 
guardians  as  the  heirs.  It  is  the  merest  commonplace  to 
say  that  our  opinions  must  inevitably  change,  that  we  can 
not  possibly  conserve  them  in  the  old  forms  and  frameworks 
of  the  past,  that  modification  of  belief  is  as  certain  and  as 
necessary  as  the  slower  modification  of  physical  structure, 
organization,  and  life.  And  every  one  should  be  encour- 
aged to  subject  his  opinions  to  the  free  air  of  thought,  to 
revise  his  convictions  continually  in  the  light  of  progressive 
evidence,  verifying  them  by  more  and  more  adequate  tests. 
That  is  wise,  wholesome,  beneficent  teaching  ;  because  it  is 
not  possible  for  us  to  store  up  our  convictions,  with  the  view 
of  preserving  them,  as  exotic  plants  are  cherished  in  a  con- 
servatory, by  artificial  heat.  But  while  it  should  be  the 
aim  of  each  individual  that  all  his  beliefs  should  be  vital — 
and  therefore  that,  like  every  living  thing,  they  should 
chansre  with  the  life  of  the  time — when  ho  looks  abroad  he 
finds  himself  in  the  midst  of  institutions  Avhich  are  the  slow 
growth  of  ages.  He  is  surrounded,  in  State  and  Church 
alike,  by  a  vast  and  complex  organization,  built  up  by  long 
hereditary  usage,  which  has  ministered  to  the  Avants  of  many 
generations,  and  which  still  answei'S  to  the  needs  and  re- 
quirements of  to-day.  These  historic  structures  are,  doubt- 
less, also  doomed  to  change.  They  must  alter  by  the  op- 
eration of  the  very  same  laws  by  which  they  have  come  to 
be  what  they  are.  They  begin  to  change  as  soon  as  they 
begin  to  exist,  because  inherent  fixity  appertains  to  nothing 
on  this  earth.  But,  because  they  have  grown  and  consoli- 
dated slowly,  they  have  a  proportionate  claim  on  the  hom- 
age of  posterity.  They  should  in  no  case  be  rashly  touched, 
or  rudely  dealt  with. 

Besides,  they  are  full  of  latent  possibilities.     There  is 
no  fixed  period  of  youth  and  of  age,  of  rise,  decline,  and 


100  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  [sermon  vii. 

fall,  for  institutions,  as  there  is  for  individuals.  They,  much 
more  than  we,  may  renew  their  youth  in  old  age.  We  can 
not  detect  the  signs  of  decay  in  them,  as  we  detect  it  in  an- 
cient trees  or  buildings,  that  have  served  their  time  ;  because 
there  may  be  in  all  of  them  the  slumbering  powers  of  life, 
and  adequacy  for  the  new  and  altered  conditions  of  another 
age.  If  they  are  to  pass  away,  they  should  be  allowed  to 
do  so  by  the  process  of  fulfillment  and  superannuation,  not 
by  external  assault  or  undermining.  The  student  of  history 
knows  that  they  will  all  die  soon  enough,  without  our  hands 
helping  on  the  process  ;  and  to  make  it  the  labor  of  a  life 
or  of  a  party,  simply  to  assail  institutions,  to  be  iconoclasts 
by  profession,  is  little  better  than  being  incendiaries. 

The  wise  attitude,  then,  toward  any  institution  which 
can  not  be  proved  to  be  doing  mischief,  is  to  hail  the  changes 
that  are  being  effected  upon  it  by  the  processes  of  internal 
growth  and  development,  but  not  to  seek  its  overthrow. 
Doubtless,  the  antagonism  to  every  change  and  the  frequent 
blindness  of  leaders  to  the  signs  of  their  own  times — so  com- 
mon in  Church  and  State  organizations — go  far  to  imjoeril 
their  stability,  and  to  invite  the  external  assaults  which 
attempt  to  lay  them  low.  It  is  their  want  of  elasticity 
and  adaptability  to  new  conditions  of  existence  that  has  led 
many  persons  to  be  indifferent  to  their  fate,  and  has  deep- 
ened the  currents  of  national  life  that  flow  outside  their 
borders.  But,  if  those  who  assume  the  office  of  leadership 
are  wise  in  their  generation,  this  need  never  happen.  If 
they  open  their  eyes  to  the  necessity  of  adjusting  the  insti- 
tution to  the  times — as  a  living  organism  adapts  itself  to  a 
new  environment — it  will  not  only  survive  the  change,  but 
will  derive  new  life  and  inspiration  from  it.  The  social 
edifice,  whether  civil  or  ecclesiastical,  will  renew  its  youth  ; 
and  the  individual  members,  realizing  that  they  have  only 
a  temporary  relation  to  the  Structures  into  Avhich  they  were 
born,  will  strive  first  to  increase  their  efiiciency  and  then 


KNIGHT.]  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.  101 

to  transmit  tliem  to  their  successors    as   little  injured   as 
possible. 

It  is  a  frequently  forgotten  element  in  the  unity  and 
solidarity  of  the  race,  that  the  present  generation  is  bound 
to  the  past  and  to  the  future  by  ties  as  real  and  vital  as 
those  which  connect  the  different  members  of  the  race  that 
are  contemporaries  now.      If,  therefore,  I  may  not  forget 
that  I  am  only  one  out  of  many,  and  have  no  right  to  carry 
out  my  individual  liberty  to  the  infringement  of  the  rights 
of  others,  neither  may  we  who  live  now  assert  ourselves  so 
as  to  infringe  the  rights  of  those  who  come  after  us,  or  de- 
molish institutions  to  which  our  successors  have  as  good  a 
title  as  ourselves.     In  other  words,  the  unity  and  solidarity 
of  the  race  apply,  not  merely  to  the  whole  area  of  the  world 
now,  but  also  to  the  whole  history  of  the  human  family, 
past,  present,  and  to  come.     It  is  comparatively  easy  for  a 
party  or  a  class  to  inaugurate  the  work  of  demolition,  espe- 
cially if  a  fanatical  spirit  is  abroad  ;  and,  under  the  guise 
of  zeal  for  the  common  good,  or  for  the  glory  of  God,  the 
most  venerable  structures,  raised  by  the  wisdom  and  piety 
of  our  forefathers,  may  be  rudely  overthrown.     A  revolu- 
tion may  accomplish  in  a  few  days  the  overthrow  of  that 
which  it  took  centuries  to  bring  to  perfection  ;  and  institu- 
tions which  have  but  half  subserved  their  uses  may  be  lev- 
eled with  the  ground,  as  a  tree  is  smitten  by  a  thunderbolt, 
or  a  city  demolished  by  an  earthquake.     It  is  far  more  diffi- 
cult to  build  up,  to  consolidate,  and  to  confirm  ;  because  it 
requires  the  consent  and  cooperation  of  thousands,  and  the 
increasing  purpose  of  generations  of  reverent  men.     The 
growth  of  human  institutions  is  a  long  and  laborious,  a  slow 
and  silent,  and  mostly  an  unconscious  process  ;  and,  because 
it  is  so,  what  the  human  race  thus  accomplishes  calls  for 
the  reverence  of  posterity  and  not  its  scorn  ;  while  it  de- 
mands an  earnest  effort  to  preserve,  sustain,  and  transmit  it 
unimpaired. 


102  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  [sermon  vii. 

Nor  will  it  suffice,  for  those  who  are  always  telling  us 
that  good  comes  out  of  evil,  to  suggest  that  such  disasters 
as  I  have  indicated  only  stir  up  the  next  generation  to  fresh 
creative  activity.  No  doubt,  in  many  instances,  it  is  so. 
The  sense  of  loss  often  leads  to  productiveness,  just  as 
necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention.  The  destruction  of 
Greek  art,  for  example,  and  the  burning  of  the  great  library 
of  the  ancient  world,  may  have  helped  forward  the  revival 
of  Europe  \chen  it  came  ;  because,  while  there  were  fewer 
precedents  to  appeal  to,  there  w^as  a  greater  demand  for 
originality  and  inventiveness.  But  what  of  the  long  period 
of  stagnation  that  followed  the  episodes  of  destruction  and 
violence  ?  What  of  the  evils  that  ensued  to  the  generations 
that  were  impoverished  meanwhile  ?  These  disasters  to 
humanity,  these  wounds  to  the  human  race  in  general,  are 
the  missing  links  in  the  chain  of  progress,  which  are  for- 
gotten by  the  advocates  of  revolutionary  change.  It  is 
true  that  the  race  may  ultimately  gain  from  the  destructive 
frenzy  of  a  few  ;  for  such  is  the  sweep  of  that  all-pervading 
law  of  action  and  reaction  that  we  can  not  tell  how  much 
we  are  indebted  even  to  the  rude  iconoclasm  of  the  past  for 
the  constructive  toil  of  subsequent  generations.  Such  is  the 
solidarity  of  the  race  in  the  direction  indicated,  so  bound 
together  are  the  successive  generations,  as  well  as  all  con- 
temporary workers,  that  we  can  with  difficulty  estimate  our 
debt  to  agencies  and  institutions  wholly  unlike  those  in 
which  we  have  been  nurtured,  for  the  very  impulses  that 
are  now  inspiring  us.  But,  by  appealing  to  the  results 
which  follow  any  course  of  action  in  the  next  generation, 
it  is  possible  to  defend  almost  everything  that  has  happened 
in  history.  Every  great  crime  stirs  up  society,  awakens 
indignation,  and  leads  to  much  reactionary  good.  But 
what  of  the  evil  it  does  in  itself,  and  by  contagion,  or  the 
force  of  example  ?  The  argument  from  results  is  a  vain 
plea  in  defense  of  anything  that  occurs  ;  because  we  are 


KKiGiiT.]  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.  JQS 

always  liable  to  deception,  both  in  tracing  causes  and  fol- 
lowing consequences  ;  and  we  can  never  know  that  what 
emerges  is  not  equally  the  result  of  other  causes  cooperating 
with  that  which  is  most  obvious,  and  on  which  the  eye  of 
the  observer  may  be  turned. 

Besides,  we  have  manifestly  no  right,  from  our  detection 
of  blemishes  in  an  institution,  which  it  requires  no  great 
acumen  to  perceive,  to  take  part  in  its  demolition.  It  is 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  discover  flaws,  whether 
they  be  motes  in  your  neighbor's  eye,  or  beams  in  a  sister 
Church,  or  tendencies  that  are  unlovely  and  arrogant,  or 
blind  and  headstrong,  in  the  tone  and  temper  of  society. 
But,  if  to  detect  these  things  is  easy,  and  to  rail  at  them 
does  no  good,  to  seek  to  destroy  the  institutions  in  which 
they  exist,  because  we  have  been  sharp-witted  enough  to 
see  the  evils  that  cling  to  them,  is  essentially  fanatical. 
What  institution  could  be  put  in  the  place  of  existing  ones, 
that  would  be  free  from  defect  ?  It  is  sometimes  in  the 
interest  of  a  fancied  movement  of  reconstruction  that  the 
work  of  demolition  is  advocated.  The  overthrow  is  meant 
to  be  a  process  preliminary  to  upbuilding.  But  it  is  as  im- 
possible for  us  to  devise  a  social  structure  that  shall  be  free 
from  blemish  as  it  is  to  construct  a  creed  with  the  stamp 
of  finality  upon  it.  That  which  to  our  theoretic  wisdom 
might  seem  superior,  were  its  merits  tested  by  practical  ex- 
istence, would  soon  be  seen  to  be  as  faulty  as  its  predeces- 
sor, many  hidden  evils  being  developed  by  experience. 

In  addition  to  tliis,  it  may  be  increasingly  difficult  to 
found  new  institutions  as  society  advances.  Individualism 
seems  more  and  more  dominant,  as  time  goes  on  ;  and,  if 
the  corporate  life  of  the  nation — as  embodied,  for  example, 
in  the  Churches  of  the  State — gives  way  before  this  indi- 
vidualistic movement,  it  is  difficult  to  see  wliat  can  take 
its  place,  that  will  be  half  so  salutary  or  half  so  enduring. 
What  hope  is  there  that  any  new  organization  would  be 


104  COmEEVATION  AND  CHANGE.  [sermon  vii. 

better  than  the  old  ?  that  it  would  be  worthier  to  live,  or 
longer  lived  ?  Might  not  the  destruction  of  the  old  hasten 
on  the  disintegration  of  the  new  ?  Our  duty,  therefore, 
seems  to  be,  to  let  the  institutions,  in  the  midst  of  which 
we  live,  survive,  so  long  as  there  is  life  in  them,  not  only 
unassailed  by  us,  but  fostered  and  upheld.  As  already  said, 
they  can  not  survive  for  ever  ;  and  they  will  all  pass  away 
soon  enough.  But  our  main  business  is  to  conserve  and 
upbuild,  in  order  that  we  may  accomplish  something  posi- 
tive ;  and  what  we  thus  conserve  will,  if  it  be  genuine,  take 
a  silent  and  unconscious  part  in  the  demolition  of  that  which 
ought  not  to  live. 

Then,  should  not  mere  modesty  and  diffidence,  due  to 
the  fact  that  much  error  and  illusion  are  inevitably  mixed 
up  with  the  convictions  we  entertain,  lead  to  the  same  prac- 
tical result  ?  Let  us  see  how  this  will  operate.  I  suppose 
we  are  not  wrong  in  saying  that  every  one  should  see  clearly 
and  know  accurately  the  character  of  things  round  him — 
what  they  are,  and  how  they  have  come  to  be  what  they 
are — before  he  can  know  what  his  duty  concerning  them  is. 
There  should,  therefore,  be  no  toleration  of  opinions  which 
can  not  stand  the  daylight  of  evidence  and  the  sif tings  of 
experience.  The  freer  our  thought  can  be  the  better,  if  its 
fetters  are  only  custom,  convention,  and  tradition.  It  should 
be  the  aim  of  every  one  to  penetrate  from  the  seeming  to 
the  real,  and  to  be  freed  from  illusions  of  every  kind.  But 
then,  as  it  is  certain  that  we  all  carry  about  manifold  illu- 
sions mixed  up  with  the  truth  we  may  happen  to  have 
reached,  and  also  that  we  shall  retain  some  of  them  to  the 
end  of  life,  taking  them  for  the  truth,  the  knowledge  of 
that  fact  should  make  us  extremely  cautious  in  carrying 
out  our  convictions,  if  their  practical  issues  are  in  any  sense 
iconoclastic.  It  is  as  impossible  for  us  to  be  entirely  free 
from  prejudice  as  it  is  to  be  wholly  free  from  the  germs  of 
physical  disease.      Add  to  this  that  the  deepest  or  most 


KNioiiT.]  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  105 

thorough  knowledge  we  ever  attain  to — on  practical  as  well 
as  on  theoretic  subjects— is  knowledge  not  of  the  whole, 
but  only  of  a  part  of  the  question  with  which  we  deal. 
These  two  facts  taken  together  should  induce  caution, 
and  never  permit  us  to  be  hurried  into  condemning  an  in- 
stitution, if  there  are  the  signs  of  active  life  within  it. 
In  an  age  in  which  rapidity  of  change  and  transition  are 
such  marked  features,  an  age  in  which  it  is  the  unexpected 
that  happens,  all  neutrality  of  mind,  irresolution,  and  in- 
difference are  to  be  condemned.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
intellectual  indecision  and  tampering  with  conviction  are 
not  the  only  evils  with  which  we  are  threatened,  nor  are 
their  opposites  the  main  virtues  in  an  era  of  swift  transi- 
tion. When  everything  is  being  shaken  that  can  be  shaken, 
it  is  surely  as  much  the  duty  of  sensible  men  to  hold  fast 
by  what  has  stood  the  strain  of  time  and  the  shocks  of  con- 
troversy as  it  is  to  be  ready  to  abandon  that  which  is  pal- 
pably demonstrated  to  be  worthless. 

The  open  avowal  of  opinion,  its  emphatic  declaration  if 
intelligently  held,  is  always  welcome  ;  but,  if  its  issues  are 
in  the  main  destructive,  it  should  be  advanced  with  reserve. 
It  is  true  that  we  must  speak  the  truth  and  do  the  right 
"though  the  heavens  should  fall."  But,  then,  if  we  speak 
the  truth  and  do  the  right,  no  such  catastrophe  will  follow, 
either  really  or  metaphorically.  It  is  true  that  we  must 
change  and  progress  if  we  are  to  continue  to  live,  but  we 
can  not  move  forward  wisely  if  we  have  no  fixed  relation 
both  to  the  past  and  to  the  present. 

Whatever  our  way  of  dealing  with  the  great  problems 
of  human  thought,  the  right  relation  to  the  great  social  and 
religious  oro-anizations  of  the  world  is  obvious.  There  are 
those  who  place  the  very  existence  of  a  State  Church  among 
the  agencies  "that  weaken  the  vigor  of  a  national  con- 
science, and  check  the  free  play  and  access  of  intellectual 
light."      Surely,  however,  they  fail  to  see  the  conserving 


106  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.  [sermon  vii. 

and  protecting  power  of  historic  institutions.  A  National 
Church  ought  to  be  a  reflection  of  the  national  character, 
and  an  organic  growth  springing  out  of  that  character.  It 
ought,  therefore,  to  tolerate  within  it  many  diverse  types  of 
thought  and  of  practice,  and  to  rejoice  in  each  as  a  separate 
phase  of  that  manifoldness  in  the  unity  of  which  lies  the 
strength  of  the  national  character.  National  Churches  have 
not  always  done  so  to  an  adequate  extent.  But  they  have 
at  least  done  so  more  adequately  than  others  have  done  it. 
It  is  outside  the  State  Churches,  amid  the  rival  jealousies  of 
dissent,  that  aberrations  of  dogma  and  ritual  are  likely  to 
be  greatest,  where  they  have  no  check  from  the  national 
conscience,  organized  in  the  Church  of  the  State.  It  is 
when  bodies  of  men,  who  might  have  remained  within  the 
national  inclosure,  are  either  driven  out  (from  some  pecu- 
liarity of  belief  or  practice)  or  voluntarily  go  forth,  and 
separate  themselves,  forming  a  new  sect  or  taking  indepen- 
dent root,  that  they,  or  their  successors,  are  most  likely  to 
develop  extremes  of  opinion  and  of  practice. 

Then,  supposing  our  existing  National  Churches  to  be 
broken  up,  the  result  would  be  neither  the  abolition  of  ex- 
tremes of  opinion,  nor  the  unification  of  religious  practice, 
but  the  intensification  of  sect-life,  alienation,  and  jealousy. 
And  why?  how  may  we  with  confidence  predict  such  a 
result  ?  Because  the  causes  which  have  led  to  the  devel- 
opment of  diverse  types  of  thought  and  of  practice  within 
the  Church  are  permanent  ones.  They  will  survive,  and 
create  new  types  in  the  future  ;  and,  each  going  on  its 
own  way,  may  give  rise  to  extremes — if  not  more  extrav- 
agant certainly  more  unsympathetic — when  they  are  re- 
leased from  the  restraints  they  now  experience.  They 
are  now  controlled,  both  by  the  conscious  and  the  uncon- 
scious influence  of  the  presence  of  their  opposites.  It  is 
not  the  variety  within  the  Church  that  is  to  be  condemned, 
for  the  more  variety  the  greater  the  life  ;  it  is  the  want 


ENioHT.]  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.  jq? 

of  toleration,  of  mutual  sympathy,  forbearance,  and  appre- 
ciation. 

But,  lest  it  be  thought  that  in  condemning  the  spirit 
that  assails  institutions,  and  in  magnifying  its  opposite, 
there  is  any  depreciation  of  the  aims  of  our  liberal  teachers 
to  find  out  what  is  true,  and  to  proclaim  it,  though  institu- 
tions should  fall  and  crumble  around  them,  I  would  repeat : 
Let  criticism  disclose  to  us  more  and  more  the  origin  of  old 
beliefs,  and  explain  the  sources  of  illusion  ;  let  the  laws  of 
the  universe  and  the  causes  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  systems 
of  opinion  be  disclosed  ;  let  the  habit  of  correctly  weighing 
evidence,  and  correctly  using  words,  be  taught  increasingly  ; 
let  all  error  be  tracked  out  and  exposed  remorselessly.  These 
things  never  interfere  with  what  is  worthy  of  life,  for  it  is 
thus  that  the  leaven  of  the  new  ideas  is  instilled,  to  work 
silently  in  the  body  corporate,  and  to  mold  the  thought  of 
the  world.  But  let  no  revolutionary  hand  be  raised  to 
destroy  what  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  past,  to  remove 
the  ancient  landmarks  of  a  nation's  faith  and  j)iety,  lest,  in 
rooting  up  the  tares  which  unquestionably  exist,  we  root  up 
the  wheat  along  with  them.  Change  of  opinion  may  be 
salutary  and  necessary.  It  may  be  the  sign  of  life,  and  its 
very  extent  an  index  and  a  measure  of  life.  But,  surely  it 
is  possible  for  our  institutions  to  live,  while  our  opinions 
change  ;  for  our  social  organizations  to  survive,  while  our 
former  convictions  are  outgrown.  Our  institutions  are  deep- 
er than  our  ojunions,  just  as  the  race  is  wider  than  the  indi- 
vidual. 

Can  we  suppose  that  any  future  age  of  enlightenment 
will  be  able  to  dispense  with  the  past,  or  discard  the  results 
of  its  accumulated  experience  ?  Have  our  fathers  lived  in 
vain,  thought  in  vain,  or  built  up  the  great  structures  of  the 
past  in  vain,  for  their  children's  children  ?  If  the  advance 
of  knowledge  and  the  widening  of  experience  enable  us  to 
see  that  much  in  which  they  trusted  is  illusory,  we  can  not 


108  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.  [seemon  vii. 

dispense  with  the  experience  we  inherit,  from  that  which 
the  race  collectively  has  outgrown.  The  child  is  father  of 
the  man,  and  the  youth  of  the  world  is  creative  of  its  age. 
As  we  have  still  to  deal  with  the  same  problems  with  which 
our  predecessors  wrestled,  we  may,  on  many  points,  come 
back  to  the  conclusions  of  the  past,  after  having  moved 
from  them  for  a  time  ;  and,  on  many  others,  we  may  dis- 
cover that  the  new  opinion  is  but  the  old  one  ti'ansmuted, 
reset  in  a  fresh  form,  and  clothed  in  the  vesture  or  fashion 
of  the  day.  When  we  have  outgrown  the  ideas  of  late 
years,  do  we  never  return  to  the  still  earlier  conclusions  of 
our  youth  ?  or  discover  a  hitherto  unsuspected  meaning  in 
what  was  taught  as  the  first  lessons  of  infant  piety  ? 

Apply  this  subject,  first,  in  our  estimate  of  party  and 
party  movements  ;  and,  secondly,  in  the  formation  of  per- 
sonal habits  of  modesty,  reverence,  and  humility. 

If  you  would  find  out  the  animating  spirit  of  any  party 
in  Church  or  State,  mark  its  attitude  toward  the  past.  Is 
it  reverential  ?  Is  it  docile  ?  Is  it  conciliatory  ?  Does  it 
strive  to  base  its  forward  movements  upon  the  wisdom  and 
experience  of  the  past  ?  Is  it  moving  on  the  path  of  re- 
form, with  its  face  turned  courageously  to  the  future,  ready 
to  advance,  but  with  its  hand  still  clinging  to  the  past? 
Then  it  is  worthy  of  your  esteem.  On  the  contrary,  is  it 
noisy,  arrogant,  self-complaisant  ?  blind  to  the  wisdom  and 
indifferent  to  the  merits  of  the  past ;  blustering  in  its  as- 
sumptions, and  confident  of  its  superiority  ?  Then  it  has 
deprived  itself  of  any  title  to  your  esteem,  by  whatever 
name  it  may  be  known,  and  on  whatever  side  of  the  con- 
ventional party-line  it  may  happen  to  be  standing.  If  a 
party,  whether  in  Church  or  State,  is  full  of  the  new  wine, 
of  revolutionary  projects,  it  is  self-condemned.  If  it  is  am- 
bitious to  progress,  but  to  progress  on  the  lines  of  the  past, 
at  once  wisely  liberal  and  wisely  conservative — and  in  no 
sense  neutral  because  it  shuns  the  falsehood  of  extremes — 


KNIGHT.]  CONSERVATION  AND  CHANGE.  109 

then  it  is  self-approved  and  self-attesting.  It  will  be  found 
that  every  institution  shares  the  fate  of  the  individual  leader, 
and  when  its  novelty  is  past,  and  its  inevitable  defects  are 
seen,  agitators  arise  who  clamor  for  its  removal.  Others 
who  see  beyond  the  leader,  to  the  Organization  which  he 
leads,  will  seek  to  reform  it  from  within,  and  to  preserve  its 
life  by  interior  expansion  and  renovation. 

Then  as  to  individual  character  and  habit.  llave  you 
got  hold  of  a  new  truth  ?  Hold  it  modestly,  though  firmly 
and  with  decision.  Do  not  noisily  proclaim  it  from  the 
house-top.  Let  it  silently  ally  itself  with  the  truths  you 
learned  yesterday,  and  with  those  which  you  may  live  to 
learn  to-morrow  ;  and,  if  they  all  grow  up  together,  each 
will  become  more  mellow  and  matured.  When  you  learn 
any  new  truth,  it  is  not  intended  that  it  shovdd  at  once  de- 
throne its  predecessors.  However  true  it  is,  it  ought  never 
to  destroy  the  truths  among  which  it  comes,  which  have 
been  there  before  it,  and  in  the  light  of  which  you  have 
hitherto  lived.  Above  all,  it  should  never  be  allowed  to 
become  a  party  watch-cry,  or  the  badge  of  a  narrow-minded 
activity.  Now,  one  of  the  chief  merits  of  the  conservative 
spirit,  which  scruples  to  assail  what  has  come  down  to  us 
with  the  seal  and  attestation  of  the  past,  is  that  it  tends  to 
habits  of  reverence,  humility,  and  a  wise  discernment  of  the 
less  obvious  aspects  of  human  duty,  both  toward  institu- 
tions and  individuals.  I  do  not  know  how  we  are  to  attain 
to  that  delicacy  of  soul  which  the  old  religious  writers 
called  "  a  tender  conscience,"  but  by  habits  of  reverence, 
scrupulosity,  and  veneration  for  all  that  reaches  us  from 
the  past,  as  well  as  for  the  fresh  revelations  of  the  day. 
True  revei'cnce  for  the  past,  for  the  voice  of  the  Eternal, 
speaking  in  past  institutions,  events,  "  dispensations,"  will 
lead  to  a  deeper  reverence  for  the  living  Oracles  of  the  pres- 
ent hour.  Reverence  for  the  past,  for  all  that  has  hitherto 
revealed  the  Divine  character  and  ways,  will  develop  in  us 


110  CONSERVATION  AND   CHANGE.  [sekmon  vii. 

that  penetration  of  mind  and  alertness  of  soul  that  are  quick 
to  respond  to  the  everlasting  Voice,  even  in  its  faintest 
modern  echo.  Now  to  him,  of  whom,  through  whom,  and 
to  whom  are  all  things,  be  glory,  as  it  was  in  the  beginning, 
is  now,  and  ever  shall  be,  world  without  end  !     Amen. 


KNIGHT.  I  THE  CONTINUITY  OF  RELIGION.  m 


VIII. 

THE    CONTINUITY  AND  DEVELOPMENT   OF 

EELIGION. 

DY    THE    RET.    PROFESSOU    KNIGHT,    LL.  D.,    ST.    ANDREWS. 

"  They  shall  perish,  but  thou  shalt  endure :  yea,  all  of  them  shall 
wax  old  like  a  garment ;  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou  change  them,  and 
they  shall  be  changed  :  but  thou  art  the  same,  and  thy  years  shall 
have  no  end." — Psalm  cii,  26,  27. 

It  is  singular  how  often  we  heai'  that  the  age  in  which 
we  live  is  one  of  transition,  and  that  we  are  passing  through 
a  crisis  in  religious  belief.  Doubtless  "  the  old  order  "  has 
changed,  "  giving  place  to  new  "  ;  and  it  is  altering,  per- 
haps, more  rapidly  than  at  any  former  period.  No  opin- 
ion now  passes  unchallenged,  because  of  its  antiquity  ;  no 
tradition  is  accepted,  on  the  ground  of  authority  ;  and, 
under  the  searching  light  of  criticism,  every  belief  is  forced 
to  show  its  credentials.  There  is,  in  consequence,  a  wide- 
spread feeling  of  unscttlement,  as  if  the  mental  atmosphere 
were  charged  with  elecfricity  ;  and  many  are  afraid  lest 
the  result  should  prove  disastrous  to  religion.  It  is  natural 
that,  when  the  fire  is  testing  everything,  we  shoul  dendeavor 
to  find  out  what  is  and  what  is  not  combustible  ;  and  only 
the  ignorant  or  the  callous  will  neglect  to  ask  whether  any 
of  their  convictions  are  of  "  the  asbestus  type." 

But  is  this  feature  of  the  day  a  novel  one  ?  Is  it  original, 
or  exclusively  modern  ?  It  may  be  a  mere  illusion  of  our 
restlessness,  that  the  characteristics  of  our  age  are  in  any 


112  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  viii. 

sense  exceptional  ;  as  if  former  times  were  not  also  transi- 
tional, or  as  if  what  we  call  the  "  crises  "  of  history  were 
not  incessant.  Every  one  knows  that  many  things  are  real 
which  are  not  realized  by  us  when  they  occur  ;  and  to  one 
who  is  even  moderately  acquainted  with  the  history  of 
opinion  it  may  excite  a  feeling  of  surprise  to  be  told  that 
the  men  of  to-day  are  exceptionally  situated,  or  that  in  all 
the  turmoil  through  which  we  are  passing  anything  very 
extraordinary  has  happened.  The  opinions  which  men  form 
and  express  as  to  the  tendencies  of  their  own  time  are  in- 
deed curiously  inconsistent  and  conflicting.  Each  one's  esti- 
mate, being  a  reflection  more  or  less  of  his  own  tempera- 
ment, is  to  that  extent  a  biased  judgment.  Some  will  tell 
you,  for  example,  that  the  times  are  preeminently  scientific  ; 
and  that,  while  the  sleep  of  tradition  is  past,  all  the  knowl- 
edge and  faith  of  the  future  must  be  critically  readjusted 
from  its  base.  Others  assure  us  that  we  live  in  very  degen- 
erate days,  in  an  age  unearnest  and  unideal,  given  over  for 
the  most  part  to  the  worship  of  comfort  and  material  pros- 
perity. Thus,  while  many  depreciate  the  present — contrast- 
ing it  with  the  imaginary  glories  of  the  past — others  exag- 
gerate its  significance  and  magnify  its  crisis.  It  may  be, 
however,  that,  a  century  hence,  a  halo  will  suiTound  this  age 
of  ours,  similar  to  that  which  now  lights  up  the  centuries 
that  are  gone  ;  while  the  supposed  crisis  we  are  passing 
through  will  seem  a  singularly  small  affair  in  the  light  of 
its  sequel. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  altogether  misleading  to  suppose 
that  Religion  is  endangered  in  the  nineteenth  century  any 
more  than  it  was  in  the  first.  Religion  lives  now,  just  as  it 
has  always  lived.  Freed  from  the  accessories  which  have 
been  so  often  mistaken  for  its  essence,  it  is  as  true  now  as 
ever  it  was.  If  there  be  any  analogy  between  the  individ- 
ual and  the  race,  the  religion  of  the  world  has  now  reached 
comparative  maturity,  and  is  necessarily  stronger  than  it 


KNiauT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  HE  LI G  ION.  II3 

was  in  infancy,  or  during  the  period  of  its  youth.     Its  his- 
toric origin  may  be  undiscoverable  in  the  past,  but  we  find 
no  period  in  which  it  has  been  absent ;  and,  during  every 
centuiy  that  has  elapsed,  it  has  struck  its  root  deeper  in  the 
soil  of  human  nature,  while  it  has  proved  itself  to  be  in- 
digenous to  every  land.     Its  history  is  the  history  of  pro- 
gressive development,  and  of  continuously  unfolding  life. 
Though  now  assailed  in  many  ways — as  it  has  always  been 
— its  most  formidable  foe  is  by  no  means  a  modern  assail- 
ant.    It  is  neither  an  antagonistic  system,  nor  an  opposing 
hierarchy.     It  is  not  even  the  tradition  that  has  overlaid  it, 
nor  the  ''enemy  in  the  household "  that  has  so  often  de- 
stroyed its  unity,  in  the  strife  of  party  spirit,  or  the  clash 
of  rival  doctrines.     It  is  a  far  subtiler  antagonist — one  that 
is  neither  ancient  nor  modern,  but  a  tendency  permanently 
present  behind  the  world's  religion — associated  with  all  its 
forms,  and  working  underneath  its  symbols.     This,  which  I 
call  its  most  formidable  foe,  is  now  spoken  of  as  Agnosti- 
cism.    From  it,  Religion  has  more  to  fear  than  from  any 
fonn  of  explicit  Atheism  ;  because  it  refrains  from  direct 
attack — affirming  that  all  the  doctrines  of  religion  belong 
to  the  sphere  of  the  unknowable.    Our  modern  agnosticism, 
however,  contains  nothing  that  is  new,  except  the  name  ; 
and  the  one  great  Dogma  which  it  controverts  contains 
nothing  that  it  superannuated.     A  panic-stricken  age  is  apt 
to  forget  that  Criticism  has  always  existed  side  by  side  with 
the  Religion  which  it  has  endeavored  to  test,  and  which  it 
has  perhaps  protected  as  much  as  it  has  assailed.     It  is  con- 
stantly forgotten  that  our  predecessors  felt  the  limits  of  the 
knowable  quite  as  truly  as  we  do  ;  and  that  the  same  intel- 
lectual puzzles,  the  same  moral  difficulties  with  Avhich  we 
are  familiar,  pressed  upon  the  general  mind  of  the  race  two 
thousand  years  ago,  without  extinguishing  its  reverence  or 
destroying  the  worship  of  the  Invisible.     Neither  our  faith 
nor  our  doubt  are  things  of  yesterday.     In  every  age  Reli- 


114  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  thi. 

gion  has  found  a  home  in  human  consciousness,  and  in  the 
face  of  all  denial  it  has  won  for  itself  a  sanctuary  in  human 
life.  In  every  age  also  criticism  has  demolished  some  of 
the  frameworks  built  around  religion,  which  their  authors 
fancied  were  part  of  its  essence.  But  the  breaking  up  of 
these  frameworks  has  never  injured  the  soul  or  spirit  of 
devotion.  On  the  contrary,  it  has  set  it  free,  giving  it  op- 
portunity for  new  departures,  to  prove  its  immortality  by 
development  in  fresh  directions.  Religious  intuition  never 
dies.  Its  activity  is  spontaneous  and  unceasing  :  while  the 
labor  of  the  understanding,  working  along  with  the  spirit- 
ual instincts,  invariably  builds  up  some  fresh  scaffolding  of 
dogma,  which  posterity  destroys. 

Two  things,  however,  seem  to  excite  periodic  apprehen- 
sion, and  to  suggest,  from  time  to  time,  the  instability  of 
religion.  The  one  is  the  possibility  of  explaining  its  origin 
by  tracing  its  development,  and  detecting  its  presence  even 
in  the  most  rudimentary  ideas  and  practices  of  the  world. 
The  other  is  the  obscurity  and  ultimate  mystery  of  the  cen- 
tral dogma,  on  which  religion  rests.  We  shall  look  at  these 
two  things  in  succession. 

As  to  the  first,  I  have  said  that  modern  criticism  does 
not  assail  religious  belief.  It  only  endeavors  to  explain  it 
by  tracing  its  ancestry  and  showing  us  the  root  whence  it 
has  sprung  ;  by  pointing  out  "  the  rock  out  of  which  it  has 
been  hewn,"  and  "  the  pit  whence  it  has  been  digged." 
But  this  explanation  of  origin  is  supposed  to  discredit  the 
originality  of  what  has  thus  been  evolved,  reducing  it  from 
a  position  of  supremacy  to  that  of  one  among  a  host  of  com- 
petitors, which  have  wrestled  together  for  ages,  and  which 
still  struggle  for  the  homage  of  mankind.  The  truth  or  the 
falsehood  of  any  particular  opinion,  however,  is  not  depen- 
dent on  the  way  in  which  it  has  come  to  light,  or  the  stages 
of  development  through  which  it  has  passed,  or  on  the  pre- 
cise point  which  at  length  it  may  have  reached.     It  may 


KsiouT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  RELIGION.  1J5 

have  attained  its  present  form  by  a  process  of  very  gradual 
growth,  or  by  a  rapid  and  apparently  sudden  disclosure. 
In  both  cases  it  may  have  equal  evidence  in  its  favor  ;  and 
a  doctrine  may  be  proved  to  be  true,  either  by  an  immedi- 
ate demonstration  of  the  reason,  or  by  the  continuous  assent 
of  the  ages.  It  may  have  the  evidence  of  a  first  principle,  or 
it  may  be  guaranteed  by  experience — i.  e.,  by  the  constancy 
with  which  the  instincts  of  mankind  return  to  it,  and  the 
tenacity  with  which  they  cling  to  it. 

It  does  not,  therefore,  follow  that,  if  we  can  explain  the 
origin  of  a  particular  belief,  by  tracing  its  parentage  and 
finding  that  it  has  sprung  from  inferior  elements,  the  valid- 
ity of  the  belief  itself  is  in  the  slightest  degree  imperiled. 
Nay,  it  is  indisputable  that,  if  the  human  mind  has  grown 
at  all,  its  religious  convictions — like  everything  else  belong- 
ing to  it — must  have  changed.  Our  remote  ancestors  could 
not  possibly  have  had  the  same  religion  as  ourselves,  any 
more  than  they  could  have  had  the  same  physiognomy,  the 
same  social  customs,  or  the  same  language.  Thus,  the  in- 
tuitions of  subsequent  ages  must  necessarily  have  become 
keener  and  clearer — at  once  more  rational  and  more  spiritual 
— than  the  instincts  of  primeval  days  ;  the  clearness,  the 
intelligence,  and  the  spirituality  being  due  to  a  vast  num- 
ber of  conspiring  causes.  And,  if  the  opinions  and  the 
practices  of  the  race  thus  change,  the  change  is  due  to  no 
accident  or  caprice,  but  to  the  orderly  processes  of  natural 
law.  It  can  not  be  otherwise  ;  because,  since  no  human  be- 
lief springs  up  miraculously,  none  can  be  maintained  in  the 
form  in  which  it  arises  for  any  length  of  time.  Tlius,  the 
"  increasing  purpose  "  of  the  ages  must  inevitably  bring  to 
the  front  fresh  modifications  of  belief.  If  our  theoloiries 
have  all  grown  out  of  something  very  different,  why  should 
we  fear  their  continued  growth  ?  "Why  should  any  rational 
theist  dread  the  future  expansion  of  theistic  belief?  If  it 
has  grown,  it  must  continue  to  grow  ;  and  many  of  its  ex- 


116  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  viu. 

isting  phases  must  disappear.  The  controversies  of  our 
time  are  the  phases  of  its  evolution.  But  is  it  now  so  very 
perfect  that  we  would  wish  it  to  remain  stationary  at  its 
present  point  of  development  ?  that  its  present  phases  should 
be  permanent  ?  May  w^e  not  rather  rejoice  that  "  these  all 
shall  wax  old  as  a  garment,"  and  that  "  as  a  vesture  they 
shall  be  changed  "  ;  while  the  Object — of  which  they  are 
the  interpretation,  or  which  they  try  to  represent — endures, 
and  of  its  immortality  there  shall  be  no  end  ?  It  may  even 
be  affirmed  that  one  of  the  best  features  in  every  human 
belief  is  its  elasticity,  that  one  sign  of  its  vitality  is  its 
amenability  to  change.  Were  it  irrevocably  fixed  it  would 
have  some  secret  affinity  with  death  and  the  grave.  Para- 
doxical, therefore,  as  it  may  seem,  if  religion  be  among  the 
things  that  can  not  be  shaken,  it  must  change.  Its  forms 
must  die  that  its  spirit  may  live  ;  and  the  condition  of  the 
permanence  of  the  latter  is  the  perpetual  vicissitude  of  the 
former.  Curious  it  is,  that  some  of  its  most  ardent  advo- 
cates can  not  recognize  it  under  a  new  dress,  that  even  its 
disciples  misconstrue  it  when  it  changes  its  raiment.  They 
think  it  a  foe  if  it  is  differently  appareled.  But  how  often, 
in  all  human  controversy,  the  combatants  are  merely  speak- 
ing different  dialects,  while  they  mean  the  same  thing! 
How  often  they  are  essentially  at  one,  if  only  they  knew  it ! 
But,  granting  that  the  opinion  of  the  world  is  an  organic 
whole,  that  all  human  conviction— with  its  present  variety 
and  complexity— has  grown  out  of  very  lowly  roots,  and 
that  our  most  sacred  beliefs  have  emerged  from  others  that 
are  different,  a  further  and  a  far  more  important  question 
lies  behind  this  admission.  It  is  this  :  How  are  we  to  in- 
terpret the  whole  series  from  beginning  to  end  ?  It  is  not 
enough  to  say  that  there  has  been  progress  ;  what  meaning 
are  we  to  attach  to  the  term  progress  ?  Are  we  to  think  of 
it  as  simple  succession  and  accumulation,  the  mere  addition 
of  new  links  to  a  chain  of  development  ?     We  know  that 


KNIGHT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  RELIGION.  117 

men  "  rise  on  stepping-stones  of  their  dead  selves  to  higher 
things,"  and  that  the  "  individual  withers,  while  the  race  is 
more  and  more  "  ;  but  do  the  individuals  and  their  beliefs 
only  resemble  beads  which  have  been  strung  on  a  thread  of 
endlessly  developing  succession?     What  has  the  race  been 
doing  during  all  this  onward  process  of  development  ?  and 
has  it  at  every  stage  been  the  victim  of  continuous  illusion  ? 
Or,  has  it  all  the  while  been  in  closest  contact  with  Reality, 
a  reality  which  it  partially  understands,  and  interprets  to 
good  purpose  ?     In  other  words,  is  the  history  of  religious 
ideas  merely  the  record  of  attempts  made  by  men  to  project 
their  own  image  outward,  to  throw  their  thought  around 
an  impalpable  object,  which  it  has  never  yet  been  able  to 
grasp  ?  or,  is  it  the  story  of  successive  efforts,  more  and  more 
successful,  to  explain  a  Reality  which  transcends  it,  but 
to  which  it  stands  in  a  definite  and  ascertainable  relation  ? 
Do  the  gropings  of  experience  in  the  matters  of  religion 
record  a  long  and  weary  search,  with  no  discovery  reward- 
ing it  ?  or  are  they  the  efforts  of  human  apprehension  to  real- 
ize the  divine,  to  get  at  the  "  last  clear  elements  of  things," 
with  disclosure  at  every  stage,  and  a  steady  approach  to  the 
goal  which  is  continually  sought  and  approximately  reached  ? 
I  think  it  is  past  controversy  that  if  the  religious  education 
of  the  human  race  has  been  a  purely  subjective  process,  if 
it  has  been  merely  an  upward  tendency  of  aspiration,  it  is 
now  no  nearer  its  goal  than  ever  it  was.     If  we  can  only 
approach  the  Infinite  by  the  journeyings  of  finite  thought, 
or  through  sighs  and  cries  of  aspiration,  the  journey  that 
way  is  endless,  and  the  end  is  nowhere  visible.     But  may  we 
not  find  the  object  everywhere?  may  not  the  discovery  have 
been  as  continuous  as  the  search  ?  and  the  two  be  simulta- 
neous now  ?    I  think  we  may  affirm  that  the  human  race 
has  lived  in  the  light  of  a  never-ceasing  apocalypse,  grow- 
ing clearer  through  the  ages,  but  never  absent  from  the 
world  since  the  first  age  began. 


118  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  viri. 

And  may  we  not  also  affirm  as  equally  indisputable  that 
it  can  not  now  get  quit  of  its  belief  in  the  Divine  ?  that  this 
conviction  is  a  permanent  element  in  its  consciousness — I 
mean  in  the  organic  consciousness  of  the  world?  It  has 
always  been  easy  to  controvert  the  statement  that  theism 
is,  in  one  form  or  another,  native  to  the  human  mind,  that 
we  can  not  divest  ourselves  of  it.  Facts  are  quoted  against 
us.  An  array  of  statistics  is  produced  to  show  many  blank 
spaces  in  the  religious  annals  of  the  race — long  periods  in 
which  the  belief  has  been  absent,  and  entire  races  in  which 
it  is  now  inoperative.  But,  if  our  former  contention  has  any 
force,  that  the  belief  itself  has  passed  through  a  vast  number 
of  phases,  its  absence  maybe  merely  apparent.  If  the  laws 
of  hereditary  descent  apply  to  religion  as  well  as  to  lan- 
guage, to  theological  belief  as  well  as  to  natural  character 
and  temperament,  the  continuity  may  be  real  while  the  gen- 
ealogy is  hidden.  The  assertion  that  theistic  belief  is  in- 
nate is  often  travestied  into  the  statement  that  the  human 
mind  can  not  rid  itself  of  some  special  theological  doctrine, 
or  theory  of  the  divine  nature.  But  the  assertion  is  a  very 
different  and  a  much  deeper  one.  It  is  that  the  intuition 
which  gives  rise  to  these  doctrines  remains,  and  that,  when 
our  superstructures  of  theory  are  overthrown,  a  surviving 
instinct  builds  them  up  again,  or  replaces  them  by  others 
that  are  bettei*. 

"We  must  vindicate  this  assertion  by  explaining  it  a  little 
further.  The  word  religion  has  undergone  many  remark- 
able changes,  alternately  widening  and  contracting  in  pop- 
ular use  and  wont ;  now  involving  less,  and  again  including 
more,  as  the  religious  instincts  themselves  have  narrowed 
or  enlarged.  Thus,  the  definitions  of  religion  have  been 
very  various  ;  and  they  may  all  contain  some  element  of 
truth,  while  none  are  exhaustive.  Probably  we  expect  too 
much  from  definitions.  It  may  be  impossible  to  express  the 
essence  of  religion  either  in  a  proposition  or  through  a  sym- 


KNIGHT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  RELIGION.  UQ 

bol  or  a  ceremony.  It  may  be  too  ethereal  for  analysis,  too 
delicate  for  our  intellectual  balances  ;  but,  if  it  escapes  our 
frames  of  theory  and  defies  all  logical  manipulation,  that 
will  be  no  proof  of  its  inferiority,  but  rather  a  sign  of  its 
divineness. 

Recall,  then,  some  of  the  definitions  of  Religion  offered 
for  our  acceptance.  Suppose  we  say,  with  one,  that  it  takes 
its  rise  in  the  sense  of  Dependence  ;  or,  with  another,  that 
it  springs  out  of  the  consciousness  of  inward  Freedom  ;  with 
a  third,  that  it  is  the  apprehension  of  Power  beyond  the 
individual — suggested  by  the  phenomena  which  control  or 
the  forces  which  subdue  him  ;  with  a  fourth,  that  it  is  the 
apprehension  of  the  Infinite,  encircling  the  finite,  yet  re- 
vealed within  it ;  or,  with  a  fifth,  that  it  is  Morality  subli- 
mated, touched  Avith  emotion  ;  with  another,  that  it  is  that 
rational  Insight  which  discerns  the  underlying  essence  and 
the  fundamental  unity  of  things,  bringing  man  into  har- 
mony with  himself  and  with  the  universe  ;  with  a  seventh, 
that  it  is  the  pursuit  of  the  Ideal,  "  the  strong  and  earnest 
direction  of  the  emotions  toward  an  ideal  object  recognized 
as  of  the  highest  excellence,  and  rightly  paramount  over  all 
selfish  objects  of  desire  "  ;  or,  with  yet  another,  that  it  is 
homage  offered  at  the  shrine  of  humanity,  but  directed  to 
that  other  self,  higher  and  wider  than  our  individual  selves, 
that  divine  Humanity,  that  human  Divinity,  in  which  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  being.  All  these  attempts  to 
define  its  essence,  and  to  express  it  in  a  theory,  may  be  help- 
ful to  us  more  or  less.  They  may  be  useful  and  fruitful  in 
many  ways.  Religious  thought  and  life  have  together  as- 
sumed so  many  forms  that  we  can  not  wonder  at  the  variety 
of  the  definitions  given. 

But  is  it  possible  to  find  anything  common,  in  all  the 
religions  of  the  world,  which  is  a  specific  element  in  each 
of  them,  or  a  feature  underlying  them  all  ?  I  think  it  is  ; 
although,  in  every  instance,  it  may  present  a  twofold  aspect. 


120  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  viii. 

As  on  the  one  hand  a  faculty  or  tendency  of  the  human 
soul,  and  on  the  other  the  recognition  of  an  object,  it  has 
always  two  sides,  an  inner  and  an  outer.     Call  the  former 
a  faculty,  or  a  capacity,  or  a  tendency,  it  matters  not.     It 
is,  in  any  case,  a  real  element  in  human  consciousness,  a 
permanent  power  of  apprehension,  half  intellectual  and  half 
emotive.     But  it  is  not  enough  merely  to  discover  and  to 
vindicate  its  existence  as  an  inward  tendency  of  the  human 
soul.     Every  such   tendency  has   an  objective  side  that  is 
quite  as  significant  as  the  subjective.     If  it  is  a  power  of 
apprehension,  we  must  ascertain  what  it  apprehends.     In  all 
cases  this  is  an  Object,  external  to  the  individual,  definitely 
related  to  him  ;  and,  although  very  varioixsly  construed,  it 
is  recognized — both  in  the  elementary  and  in  the  more  ad- 
vanced stages  of  religion — as  having  elements  of  kindred- 
ness  with  his  own  nature.      Even  in  its    subjective  side, 
religion  is  not  the  mere  opening  of  the  floodgates  of  emo- 
tion toward  the  unknown  and  the   unknowable — emotion 
awakened  by  the  simple  sense  of  mystery.    It  is  also  the  in- 
tellectual recognition  and  the  moral  discernment  of  an  Ob- 
ject.    No  theory  of  religion,  which  omits  this  fact,  is  com- 
plete or  satisfactory.    It  meets  us  at  every  stage  in  the  path 
of  development.     The  records  of  religious  history  invari- 
ably disclose  some  effort  of  the  human  mind  to  penetrate 
further  into  the  mystery  of  things,  both  by  thought  and  by 
feeling,  to  rise  higher  in  the  apprehension  of  the  Infinite, 
to  descend  deeper  toward  the  eternal  ground  of  things — in 
other  words,  not  only  to  feel  the  overshadowing  mystery, 
but  also  to  perceive  the  light  that  is  within  it.    But,  always 
associated  with  the  effort  to  apprehend  this  object,  there  is  a 
corresponding  disclosure  of  the  object  itself.     Divine  reve- 
lation is  accomplished  simply  by  a  removal  of  the  things 
which  had  previously  obscured  the  object  it  reveals.     It 
does  not  bring  the  latter  any  nearer  to  us.     It  merely  draws 
aside  the  veil,  which  had  prevented  the  human  eye  from 


KNIGHT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  RELIGION.  121 

seeing  it ;  enabling  us  to  perceive  what  Lad  been  always 
present,  but  not  always  recognized.  Thus,  in  all  religion, 
there  is  first  a  subjective  state  of  human  thought  and  feel 
ing  ;  next,  the  recognition  of  an  external  object  ;  and,  last- 
ly, the  discernment  of  that  object  in  the  act  of  revealing 
itself. 

Try  now  to  go  back,  imaginatively  and  sympathetically, 
to  the  rudest  primitive  age  ;  think,  for  example,  of  our 
forefathers,  in  the  gray  morning  of  the  world's  religion, 
engaged  at  their  tree  and  serpent  worship.  They  heard  the 
wind  moaning  mysteriously  in  the  forest,  while  they  saw 
the  ti'ee  arise  mysteriously  from  the  ground.  They  ob- 
served its  life  come  forth  in  the  summer  and  retire  in  win- 
ter. They  saw  the  serpent  crawling  mysteriously  on  the 
ground,  by  a  power  they  could  not  understand  ;  and  in 
both  cases  were  they  awed  in  the  presence  of  the  mystery. 
What  was  exceptional  and  unintelligible  excited  wonder, 
and  led  to  acts  of  homage.  And,  although  the  race  has 
long  outgrown  the  habit,  the  savage  who  first  called  upon 
his  fellows  to  worship  the  tree — as  a  symbol  of  the  mystery 
of  growth — was  really  a  prophet  of  religious  ideas  ;  quite 
as  truly  as,  though  much. less  articulately  than,  the  found- 
ers of  maturer  faiths.  If  you  consider  the  blank  animal 
life  out  of  which  the  former  arose,  in  the  long  process  of 
development,  you  will  see  bow  great  was  the  advance 
which  such  a  primitive  worshiper  made. 

The  sense  of  mystery  in  individual  objects,  such  as  the 
tree  or  serpent,  yielded  by  degrees  to  the  wider  and  grander 
feeling  of  a  mystery  in  Nature,  as  a  whole  :  and  the  highest 
religion  ends,  not  in  an  exhaustive  explanation  of  things, 
but  in  a  partial  uplifting  of  the  veil  which  only  serves  to 
disclose  the  wide  horizon  of  the  unknown.  Pass  over  in- 
termediate phases,  and  come  down  to  its  later  develop- 
ments. Our  conviction  of  the  Divine  Fatherhood,  for  ex- 
ample, is  immeasurably  higher  than  that  of  the  primitive 
G 


122  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  vm. 

savage,  because  we  find  a  far  loftier  idea  lodged  within 
that  symbol  than  any  to  which  the  savage  mind  attained. 
But  our  symbol  does  not  exhaust  the  thing  it  symbolizes. 
No  analogy,  figure,  or  metaphor  casts  more  than  a  dubious 
light  on  the  object  which  it  represents.  A  symbol  is  in 
fact  merely  a  ladder,  by  which  we  ascend  from  the  ground 
of  the  material,  but  which  we  must  in  every  instance  cast 
aside  when  we  pass  to  the  sphere  of  the  ideal  and  the 
spiritual.  Thus,  while  there  has  been  a  gradual  uprise  of 
human  apprehension  in  matters  of  religion,  the  mysterious- 
ness  of  the  Object  apprehended  has  always  made  our  expla- 
nations partial,  and  our  definitions  incomplete.  Our  pres- 
ent modes  of  thought  regarding  it  are  not  ultimate.  They 
will  not  suffice  for  our  descendants,  who  may  leave  many 
of  our  symbols  behind  them,  as  we  have  abandoned  those 
of  a  primitive  and  prehistoric  past.  But  religion  itself 
will  not  be  left  behind.  Religion  itself  is  deathless,  be- 
cause it  is  the  outcome  of  a  permanent  tendency,  and  the 
satisfaction  of  an  ineradicable  want  of  human  nature.  It  is 
indestructible,  because  it  is  the  embodiment  of  a  spiritual 
instinct,  which  survives  in  the  general  heart  of  the  race  ; 
and  which,  if  it  ever  seems  to  die,  is  immediately  raised 
again  from  the  dead,  and  lives  on  through  a  thousand 
changes. 

If  humanity  stands  in  living  relation  to  a  Revealer,  who 
is  omnipresent  and  always  communicative,  the  Christian 
revelation — in  the  light  of  which  we  are  now  living — is  but 
the  continuation  and  development  of  that  which  primitive 
worshipers  enjoyed,  in  humbler  manner  and  in  lower  form. 
Neither  they  nor  we  "  can  by  searching  find  out  God,"  or 
understand  the  Eternal  as  He  is.  We  all  have  seen,  through 
a  glass  darkly,  the  glory  of  the  Infinite  ;  but,  between  our 
purely  animal  ancestors  and  the  savage  who  was  first  sub- 
dued by  the  glory  of  the  sky  and  the  mystery  of  life,  there 
was  an  interval  as  great  as  that  which  separates  the  latter 


NNiGiiT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  RELIGION.  123 

from  ourselves.  In  the  whole  process  there  has  been  revela- 
tion, the  unveiling  of  secret  things  to  hearts  that  were  open 
and  recipient.  In  all,  there  has  been  inspiration,  at  sundry 
times  and  in  diverse  manners,  continuous,  incessant,  univer- 
sal. All  the  stages  of  religious  history  have  been  graduated 
— all  are  continuous  ;  and  if  to  the  eye  of  omniscience  there 
is  as  much  meaning  in  the  Beed  as  in  the  flower,  there  was  a 
spiritual  significance  in  the  earliest  gropings  of  the  world's 
remotest  childhood,  as  well  as  in  those  of  the  raaturest 
worshipers  of  Christendom.  Do  we  not  see  as  much  in  the 
lispings  of  our  children,  and  watch  their  infantile  appre- 
hensions with  as  keen  an  interest  as  we  talce  in  the  judg- 
ments of  full-grown  men  ?  And  can  we  suppose  that  the 
common  Father  of  us  all  was  less  interested  in  the  guesses 
of  our  remote  barbaric  ancestors  than  He  is  in  ours  ?  May 
we  not  rather  say  historically,  that  out  of  the  mouth  of  the 
babes  and  sucklings  of  the  world's  religion  He  has  perfected 
praise  ? 

If  our  belief  in  the  continuity  of  religion  were  more  vivid, 
it  would  allay  much  of  the  panic  and  religious  distraction 
that  prevail.  To  a  great  extent  this  is  due  to  our  making 
religion  too  complex  and  artificial.  If  its  essential  simplicity 
were  realized,  its  perpetuity  would  be  apparent.  We  need 
to  get  quit  of  the  illusion  of  seeking  the  living  among  the 
dead,  of  mistaking  words  for  things.  We  need  to  get  to 
the  solid  ground  of  reality,  and  then  to  lift  our  eyes  to  the 
eternal  background  that  enfolds  it,  and  the  Supernatural 
will  be  discerned  by  us,  as  within  the  natural  everywhere  ; 
not  as  an  occasional  force,  sent  down  irregularly  into  the 
rents  or  fisstires  of  nature,  but  as  the  inmost  life  of  whatso- 
ever is,  or  was,  or  yet  shall  be. 

Whatever  of  its  ancient  strongholds  religion  may  be 
compelled  to  surrender  before  the  advance  of  criticism,  this 
it  will  never  give  up  ;  but,  standing  upon  it,  will  compel 
the  homage  of  the  future.     We  may  have  to  surrender  the 


124  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  viii. 

notion  of  creation  out  of  nothing,  the  notion  of  creatures 
leaping  on  the  stage  of  being,  full  formed,  unevolved.  We 
may  have  to  abandon  the  idea  of  Divine  energy  slumbering 
for  an  infinity  of  ages,  then  becoming  suddenly  and  stupen- 
dously active,  again  taking  rest,  and  again  awakening  by 
fits  and  starts  to  action.  We  may  find  it  derogatory  to  the 
notion  of  Deity  to  imagine  that,  as  one  asleep,  He  started 
up  after  an  eternity  of  silence  to  work  and  sleep  again. 
We  may  have  to  renounce  the  notion  of  a  worker  overcom- 
ing difficulties,  devising  and  designing  things  after  a  human 
pattern,  as  one  unworthy  of  the  Infinite  and  the  Omniscient. 
All  our  symbolic  thoughts  and  Avord-pictures  will  more  and 
more  be  seen  to  be  inadequate,  because,  the  moment  the 
mind  attempts  to  think  of  them  as  adequate,  they  vanish 
from  its  grasp.  But  no  illusion  of  tradition  will  ever  dis- 
enchant the  mind  of  the  belief  that  the  Infinite  is  for  ever 
revealing  himself,  that  "  God's  great  completeness  flows 
around  our  incompleteness,  round  our  restlessness  liis  rest  "  ; 
that  God  is  within  us  as  well  as  without,  the  soul  of  our 
souls,  the  life  of  our  lives,  the  substantial  Self  that  underlies 
the  surface  evanescent  self.  And  it  is  one  glory  of  the 
Christian  religion  that  it  has  developed  a  new  conviction  of 
the  neai'ness  of  God  to  man,  their  kindredness,  their  reci- 
procity, their  relations  of  intimacy  and  fellowship.  It  has 
given  rise  to  emotions  more  tender,  intense,  and  reverential 
than  were  ever  felt  before,  by  its  twin  doctrines  of  the 
knowableness  and  the  unknowableness  of  God  ;  or,  as  I 
have  already  said,  by  its  recognition  of  abiding  mystery, 
and  of  the  light  that  is  within  the  mystery.  God  recognized 
as  the  interior  essence  of  all  things,  the  substance  of  all 
reality,  revealing  himself  through  all  phenomena  which  are 
"  the  garment  we  see  him  by."  If  the  finite  for  ever  reveals 
the  Infinite,  the  universe  may  from  everlasting  have  lived 
and  moved  and  had  its  being  in  God  ;  and  our  humanity — 
poor  as  we  all  feel  it  to  be — is  not  cut  off  from  the  Univer- 


KNIGHT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  EELIGION.  125 

sal  Life  by  reason  of  our  individuality  and  separateness 
from  other  things.  Personality  is  not  a  fence  dividing  us 
from  that  Life,  but  only  a  fence  which  separates  us  from 
one  another.  Nay,  at  the  core  of  our  being  we  do  not,  and 
can  not,  feel  separated  from  one  another,  because  we  are 
one  in  relation  to  that  Life.  It  is  only  on  the  surface  that 
we  are  apart :  in  the  deepest  depths  we  are  one. 

So  far,  we  have  considered  the  first  of  the  two  causes 
which  excite  periodic  apprehension,  and  seem — but  only 
seem — to  threaten  the  stability  of  religion. 

The  second,  which  remains,  may  be  dealt  with  more 
briefly.  It  is  the  obscurity  and  ultimate  mystery  on  which 
the  one  great  dogma  of  religion  rests.  That  it  should  be 
difficult  to  prove  the  most  radical  truth  pertaining  to  re- 
ligion is  perplexing  enough.  If  the  Divine  Existence  be 
the  suj^reme  reality  within  the  universe,  how,  it  is  asked, 
should  the  human  mind  ever  miss  its  evidence,  or  fail  to 
realize  it  ?  Why  is  the  stupendous  fact  not  flashed  in  upon 
the  soul  on  every  side,  with  indubitable  force,  so  as  to 
produce  an  overmastering  conviction  ?  Should  not  the 
greatest  truth  be  the  most  steadily  luminous  and  self-attest- 
ing ?  equal  in  its  obviousness,  at  least  to  the  phenomena  of 
natui'e,  or  the  laws  of  mathematics  ?  Why,  in  other  words, 
it  may  be  asked,  should  clouds  and  darkness  surround  a 
Nature  that  is,  in  its  inmost  essence,  light  ? 

In  answer,  this  last  peculiarity  may  be  sometimes  due 
to  a  defect  in  the  eye  of  the  beholder.  God  may  be  light, 
and  in  him  may  be  no  darkness  at  all,  but  the  light  may 
shine  in  the  darkness  of  our  natures,  while  "  the  darkness 
comprehends  it  not."  An  explanation  may  be  found  in  the 
characteristics  of  our  own  optic  nerve — just  as  many  of  us 
are  morally  color-blind.  Again,  the  atmosphere  which  sur- 
rounds us  may  be  so  dull  and  cloudy  that  the  light  can  not 
penetrate  it.  Both  our  moral  and  our  social  state  at  times 
project  a  shadow  far  beyond  themselves.     But  there  may 


126  THE  CONTINUITY  AND  [sermon  viii. 

be  other  reasons  additional  to  these,  springing  out  of  the 
very  nature  of  the  case,  and  the  course  of  education  we  are 
passing  through.  If  we  lived  in  the  cloudless  light,  the 
conditions  of  moral  discipline  would  be  very  different  from 
what  they  now  are.  If  all  religious  truths  were  as  obvious 
as  those  of  science,  there  would  be  no  room  for  spiritual 
trust ;  and  our  moral  life  would  become  a  process  of  me- 
chanical development.  If  the  "doubt,  hesitation,  and 
pain,"  to  which  our  best  achievements  are  due,  disappeared, 
the  achievements  themselves  might  cease  to  be.  Nay,  if 
we  lived  in  the  light,  alone  and  always,  we  might  see  the 
Divine  object,  without  perceiving  it :  we  might  hear  its 
voice,  without  recognizing  it.  But  with  light  and  darkness 
intermingled  and  successive,  with  glimpses  of  the  object 
seen  through  the  openings  of  the  cloud  which  close  again 
and  conceal  it,  we  are  in  a  region  of  experience,  in  which 
the  discipline  of  trust  is  rendered  possible,  and  the  ventures 
of  faith  are  realized.  Thus,  what  we  sometimes  think  an 
obstacle  to  faith  may  be  an  aid  to  our  vision  of  Reality. 
And  if  it  be  so,  all  the  variety  in  our  interpretation  of  that 
Reality — the  different  conclusions  of  our  different  theolo- 
gies— may  be  merely  due  to  the  particular  angle  at  which 
the  light  reaches  the  eye  of  the  beholder,  to  the  point  at 
which  the  cloud  has  broken,  and  the  way  in  which  it  has 
disclosed  the  Object  behind  it. 

With  this  conceded,  we  may  be  in  a  position  to  see  how 
the  theistic  solution  helps  us,  in  the  presence  of  the  mystery 
which  remains,  after  all  our  solutions  have  been  given.  That 
the  theistic  explanation  of  the  world  is  bordered  round 
about  with  difficulty  is  admitted  by  every  one,  who  has 
thought  to  any  purpose  on  the  question.  But,  then,  all  our 
knowledge — even  the  most  luminous  portion  of  it — recedes, 
at  the  last,  into  the  unknowable  ;  and  no  conceivable  reve- 
lation, in  this  or  any  other  condition  of  existence,  reaching 
us  from  any  imaginable  quarter,  could  enable  us  to  under- 


KNIGHT.]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  RELIGION.  127 

stand  "  all  mysteries  and  all  knowledge."  Under  its  most 
ample  disclosures,  we  should  but  stand  as  now,  on  a  little 
sunlit  promontory,  with  the  immeasurable  ocean  before  us, 
and  the  horizon  of  our  knowledge  would  still  be  girdled  by 
a  line  of  mystery.  But,  then,  the  theistic  doctrine  does  not 
leave  us  baffled  before  the  enigmas  which  it  recognizes. 
We  are  neither  intellectually  prostrate  nor  morally  helpless 
before  them,  because  it  supplies  us  with  a  key,  which  par- 
tially unlocks  the  mystery.  It  gives  us  at  least  a  definite, 
coherent,  and  rational  explanation  of  things  ;  while  it 
leaves  a  score  of  puzzles  unexplained.  If  it  lightens  "  the 
burden  of  the  mystery  " — which  still  remains  to  elevate  the 
worship  it  evokes — that  surely  is  much.  If  it  keeps  our 
puzzles  in  the  background  of  intellectual  experience,  and 
does  not  suffer  them  to  obtrude  upon  the  forefront  of  the 
moral  life,  that  surely  is  more.  If  it  turns  the  unceasing 
sense  of  mystery  into  a  solemn  discipline  in  reverence,  that 
assuredly  is  most  of  all,  to  us  who  see  everything  through 
a  glass  darkly.  If  the  darkness  which  may  be  felt  mod- 
erates our  confidence,  and  checks  dogmatic  arrogance,  the 
light  that  is  associated  with  it  elicits  our  enthusiasm,  and 
inspires  us  with  new  hope.  It  forbids  despondency.  It 
rouses  us  from  listlessness  to  earnest  life  and  trustful  en- 
deavor. We  have  at  least  some  light  to  guide  us  ;  and, 
while  we  wish  we  had  more  of  it,  we  are  grateful  for  what 
we  have.  Thus,  walking  in  the  light,  to  the  upright  it 
ariseth,  "  shining  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 


128  TEE  LAW  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.      [sermon  ix 


IX. 

THE  LAW   OF  MOEAL  COXTmUITY. 

BY    THE    RET.    WILLIAM    MACKINTOSH,    D.  D.,    EIACHSAN. 

"  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.'' — Gal.  vi,  7. 

Iif  the  sphere  of  practical  religion,  there  is  no  more  far- 
reaching  nor  more  controlling  principle  than  that  here  laid 
down  by  St.  Paul.  Like  most  other  great  principles,  it  ad- 
mits of  being  placed  in  many  lights,  and  expressed  in  many 
forms.  Popularly,  it  is  spoken  of  as  the  doctrine  of  the 
spiritual  harvest  ;  in  ethical  science  as  that  of  the  continu- 
ity of  the  moral  life.  It  is  the  doctrine  that  every  action, 
good  or  bad,  confirms  and  perpetuates  the  disposition  from 
which  it  springs  :  that  the  life  hereafter  will  correspond  to 
the  life  here  :  that  the  reward  or  punishment,  which  comes 
home  to  us  inevitably,  instead  of  being  fixed  by  arbitrary 
decree,  is  but  the  natural  consequence  of  our  well  or  ill  do- 
ing ;  and  that  our  future  grows  out  of  our  present,  just  as 
a  plant  out  of  the  seed,  while  our  present  is  but  the  fruit 
or  summation  of  all  our  past  life. 

In  speaking  of  the  continuity  of  the  individual  life,  it  is 
not  necessary  to  take  into  account  the  cognate  fact  that 
the  life  of  the  individual  is  more  or  less  influenced  by  the 
lives  of  past  generations,  and  is,  indeed,  to  a  great  extent, 
their  product.  That  involvement  of  the  spirit  in  the  flesh, 
and  that  bias  toward  egotism — the  sources  of  evil — which 
mark  the  starting-point  of  the  moral  development  of  the 
individual,  and  which,  on  psychological,  altogether  apart 


MACKINTOSH.J     THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL  CONTINUITY.  129 

from  dogmatic  grounds,  Ave  take  to  be  a  plienoracnon  of  the 
child's  life,  are  no  doubt  largely  modified  from  that  source  ; 
but  the  developed  form  of  evil  in  the  parents  does  not  reap- 
pear in  the  child.  Its  moral  life  is  not  a  continuation  of 
theirs,  and  does  not  begin  where  theirs  left  off,  but  takes 
a  fresh  start,  a  new  departure  for  itself.  At  the  most,  the 
ancestral  evil  only  appeal's  in  germ  in  the  child,  and  gives 
concreteness  to  the  otherwise  abstract  point  from  which  the 
development  of  the  individual  life  would  take  its  depar- 
ture. It  seems  to  us,  therefore,  that  the  influence  of  an- 
cestral good  or  evil  does  not  import  any  additional  complex- 
ity into  this  subject,  and  may  be  left  by  us  out  of  sight. 

The  doctrine  of  the  text  throws  light  upon  the  nature  of 
human  responsibility,  as  well  as  upon  the  mode  of  Divine 
judgment.  A  man  may  be  said  to  bear  his  own  burden, 
and  to  be  responsible  for  himself,  just  because  he  reaps 
what  he  has  sown  ;  and  God  may  be  said  to  execute  judg- 
ment by  the  natural  operation  of  this  same  law  of  reaping 
and  sowing.  It  is  not  by  connecting  physical  and  social 
evil  with  that  which  is  moral  that  God  can  be  said  to  de- 
cree righteous  judgment,  inasmuch  as  there  is  no  exact  cor- 
respondence between  these  two  forms  of  evil,  that  which  is 
physical  being  in  no  way  commensurable  with  that  which 
is  moral.  The  relation,  whatever  it  may  be,  in  which,  by 
Divine  arrangement,  these  two  are  actually  placed  to  each 
other,  is  not  arbitrary,  just  because  nothing  is  arbitrary  in 
the  Divine  government,  but,  so  far  as  purposes  of  judgment 
are  concerned,  is  disciplinary,  economical,  and  apparently 
provisional.  "We  can  not  so  much  as  form  a  conception  of 
a  finite  world  in  which  pain  and  evil  do  not  exist ;  and, 
though  sin  has  a  tendency  to  aggravate  the  evil,  and  draw 
it  down  upon  itself,  yet  this  tendency  is  only  general  and 
indeterminate,  so  that  the  evil  does  not  infallibly  and  inva- 
riably find  out  the  sinner  himself.  He  may  escape  all  or 
most  of  the  subsidiary  effects  of  his  sin,  which  may  overtake 


130  THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.       [sermon  ix. 

not  himself,  but  his  innocent  children  or  neighbors.  His 
frauds  may  not  come  to  light.  By  the  use  of  remedial 
measures,  or  in  virtue  of  a  vigorous  constitution,  he  may 
never  feel  the  bad  effects  of  intemperance.  His  station  in 
society  may  give  him  impunity  in  crime.  A  great  moralist 
has  said  that  there  is  almost  no  calamity  from  which  a  man 
may  not  extricate  himself,  in  part  or  in  whole,  by  plunging 
more  deeply  into  the  spiritual  evil  by  which  he  incurred  the 
risk  of  it.  The  spiritual  consequences  are  the  only  ones 
Avhich  can  never  be  escaped,  except  by  repentance  and 
amendment,  which,  in  their  turn,  have  no  virtue  to  revoke 
the  temporal  and  physical  effects  which  sin  has  incurred. 
It  is  by  suffering  men  to  reap — in  the  taint  or  hue  which  it 
impresses  on  the  texture  of  the  soul ;  in  the  formation  and 
bias  of  the  inmost  character — the  very  evil  which  they  have 
sown,  not  a  different  kind  of  evil,  that  God,  the  Judge  of 
all  the  earth,  may  be  said  to  do  what  is  absolutely  right, 
and  to  render  to  every  man  according  to  his  deeds.  If  there 
be  a  punishment  of  sin  additional  to  this,  it  will  consist 
chiefly  in  the  inward  misery  and  self -dissatisfaction  caused 
by  a  perception  of  the  growing  interval  between  what  we 
are  and  what  we  should  be  ;  and  of  the  opposition  in  which 
we  are  placed  to  an  eternal  order  on  which  we  are  yet  ab- 
solutely dependent. 

The  recognition  of  the  principle  here  laid  down  is  not 
an  element  or  dogma  distinctive  of  Christianity,  or  of  posi- 
tive religion  generally.  On  the  contrary,  it  may  claim  to 
be  regarded  as  an  element  oi  natural  religion,  whose  evi- 
dence is  not,  it  may  be,  an  instinct  of  the  religious  con- 
sciousness, but  is  derived  more  properly  from  experience. 
It  is  a  fact  or  principle,  moreover,  which  even  the  widest 
experience  could  have  revealed  only  to  a  deep  spiritual  in- 
sight, to  an  eye  that  could  penetrate  to  things  not  seen. 
For,  as  we  have  just  implied,  good  and  evil  are  unequally 
and  partially  distributed  in  that  world  of  sense  which  is  open 


MACKINTOSH.]     THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL    CONTINUITY.  \^i 

to  common  observation  ;  and  "  it  is  in  the  world  of  spirit 
only  that  every  one  receives  his  due,"  in  that  world  which, 
to  most  of  us,  is  veiled  in  impenetrable  mystery,  though  it 
lies  all  about  us. 

We  do  not  pause  to  reflect  how  largely  this  principle 
falls  in  with  one  of  the  grandest  generalizations  of  modern 
science  :  viz.,  that  every  force  propagates  itself  under  the 
same  or  some  other  form  ;  that  no  action  fails  to  produce 
its  adequate  effect  ;  and  that,  in  the  physical  and  social 
worlds  alike,  there  are  no  abrupt  or  violent  transitions,  but 
everywhere  progress  of  connected  growth — a  conservation 
and  interaction  of  forces,  moral  as  well  as  physical.  Just 
on  account  of  this  coincidence,  the  mind  of  the  present  day 
may  probably  be  prepared  to  ascribe  to  this  principle  a 
theological  range  and  importance  greater  than  has  been  as- 
cribed to  it  hitherto.  It  is  more  pertinent  to  state  that,  in 
almost  all  ages,  some  minds  have  been  able  to  come  upon 
the  traces  of  this  principle,  without  the  aid  either  of  scien- 
tific investigation  or  of  external  revelation.  Hints  of  an 
acquaintance  with  it  have  been  left  on  record  in  varied  lan- 
guage, by  the  poets  and  philosophers  of  heathen  lands,  and 
by  ancient  founders  of  religion  and  lawgivers,  who  owed 
nothing  to  such  sources  of  knowledge. 

The  tendency  of  crime  to  generate  new  crime  was  one 
of  the  great  themes  of  Greek  tragedy,  and  was  recognized 
as  the  true  curse  and  penalty  of  crime — as  the  most  tragic 
element  of  life.  Four  hundred  years  before  the  Christian 
era,  one  of  the  great  dramatists  expresses  the  idea  that  there 
is  nothing  arbitrary,  nothing  partial,  in  the  judgment  of 
God,  but  that  all  is  according  to  law  and  justice.  "  He  that 
deviseth  mischief  is  overtaken  by  mischief."  "  While  God 
reigns  the  law  holds  good  that,  what  a  man  does,  that  he 
also  suffers."  At  a  later  period,  we  find  the  greatest  of 
Greek  philosophers  expressing  the  idea  that  the  penalty  of 
injustice  is  not  "  death  nor  stripesT*  but  the  fatal  necessity 


132  THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.      [sermon  ix. 

of  becoming  moi'e  and  more  unjust.  These  remarkable 
utterances,  and  many  like  them  scattered  through  the  writ- 
ings of  classical  antiquity,  record  the  impression,  made  by 
experience,  on  that  remote  age  ;  and  show  that  men  were 
reaching  forth  as  by  premonition  to  the  truth  of  which  St. 
Paul  afterward  laid  hold.  The  meaning  is  substantially  the 
same  :  viz.,  that  a  man's  principle  of  action  is  what  deter- 
mines his  fate  ;  and  that  he  falls  under  the  operation  of 
that  law,  whether  of  love  or  hatred,  by  which  he  elects  to 
regulate  his  life. 

If  we  go  back  to  an  age  somewhat  more  remote  than 
that  in  which  the  poet  formulated  the  doctrine  of  Nemesis, 
we  come  upon  the  founder  of  one  of  the  three  principal  re- 
ligions now  existing,  who  seems  to  have  been  inspired  to 
his  great  enterprise  mainly  by  his  marvelously  keen  per- 
ception of  the  eternal  law  which  rules  the  destinies  of  men  ; 
the  law  of  recompense,  or,  as  it  has  been  called,  "  the  indis- 
soluble chain  of  cause  and  effect  in  the  moral  world,  ac- 
cording to  which,  the  blessing  of  every  good  act,  and  the 
curse  of  every  bad  act,  pursues  the  soul  in  the  whole  course 
of  its  wanderings,  as  a  shadow  follows  the  body."  Buddha 
had,  it  is  evident,  a  profound  insight  into  the  fact  that  the 
individual  in  every  moment  of  his  existence  is  substan- 
tially nothing  else  than  the  fruit  or  product  of  his  former 
deeds.  He  held  that  the  fate  of  the  individual  depends  in 
no  resjDect  on  the  decree  of  higher  powers,  but  is  the  conse- 
quence of  his  own  acts — the  fruit  of  his  own  sowing.  The 
only  salvation,  or  means  of  salvation,  for  man,  which  he 
knew  of,  was  the  extirpation  of  selfishness  and  the  conquest 
of  sensuality.  "  To  cease  from  all  evil,  to  practice  all  good, 
and  to  subjugate  the  passions  :  this,  according  to  an  ancient 
formula,  was  the  doctrine  of  Buddha."  Recognizing  the 
existence  of  the  law  to  which  we  are  referring,  the  problem 
for  which  he  sought  the  solution  was  to  devise  "  a  pathway 
of  salvation"  adapted   to  it,  without  taking  any  account 


MACKINTOSH.]     THE  LAW  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.  133 

whatever  of  a  supreme  lawgiver,  or  acknowledging  the 
need  of  help  or  mediation  of  any  kind.  Fantastic  as  was 
much  of  his  religious  system — if  that  could  be  called  re- 
ligion which  was  without  God  and  without  faith,  except 
perhaps  in  the  nature  of  man — yet  the  fact  that,  in  utter 
sincerity,  he  founded  his  plan  of  salvation  upon  this  doc- 
trine, shows  how  firm  was  his  grasp  of  it. 

In  the  Old  Testament,  especially  in  some  of  the  Psalms, 
in  the  Proverbs,  and  in  the  Book  of  Job,  there  occur  some 
distant  approximations  to  the  same  great  idea.  The  author 
of  the  latter  book  is  seen  to  be  groping  for  a  solution  of  the 
riddle  presented  by  the  calamities  which  often  overtake  the 
righteous.  The  ideas  current  in  his  time  upon  the  subject 
do  not  satisfy  him.  Instead  of  regarding  calamity  as  neces- 
sarily a  punishment  of  sin,  open  or  secret,  he  tells  us  in  his 
prologue  that  adversity  may  befall  the  good  man  as  a  test 
and  trial  of  his  integrity,  but  that  in  the  end  his  integrity 
is  vindicated,  as  we  see  in  the  epilogue.  Manifestly,  how- 
ever, this  solution  does  not  tally  with  experience  ;  and  the 
riddle  can  only  be  solved  by  taking  into  consideration,  that, 
apart  from  sin,  calamity  is  of  small  account,  and  that  the 
real  punishment  of  sin  is  the  degradation  which  it  stamps 
upon  the  soul  :  that  sin  itself  is  the  true  evil,  the  real  dis- 
ease of  the  soul  for  which  there  is  no  comfort,  and  no  com- 
pensation ;  while  over  every  other  form  of  evil,  the  upright 
soul  may  elevate  itself  in  triumph,  and  make  it  ministrant 
of  good.  Unable  to  reach  this  solution,  the  author  after 
many  attempts  sinks  back  bafiled,  and  brings  his  drama  to 
a  conclusion,  in  which  little'  else  can  be  seen  than  a  confes- 
sion that  the  riddle  is  insoluble,  and  that  his  speculations 
have  led  to  no  result,  but  have  just  brought  him  back  to 
the  point  from  which  he  started — a  proof  that,  with  all  the 
glow  of  his  genius,  and  the  fervor  of  his  emotion,  his 
insight  and  inspiration  fell  much  short  of  that  to  which 
Buddha  attained. 


134  THE  LAW  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.      [sekmon  ix. 

We  may  take  for  granted,  then,  that  the  knowledge  of 
this  principle  may  be  and  has  been  arrived  at  independently 
of  any  external  revelation.  And  we  now  add  that  it  under- 
lies Christianity,  as  much  as  does  the  existence  and  unity 
of  God,  or  any  other  article  of  natural  religion.  It  is  a  part 
of  that  foundation  which  can  not  be  shaken  or  removed 
by  any  subsequent  revelation.  We  feel  that  here  we  touch 
the  solid  ground  of  fact ;  that  here  we  have  one  test,  in  ad- 
dition to  many  others,  by  which  we  may  try  the  claims  and 
check  the  extravagances  of  any  dogma,  or  system  of  dog- 
mas ;  and  that  we  should  be  justified  in  bending  or  modi- 
fying into  agreement  with  it  any  creed  which  may  other- 
wise have  claims  upon  our  reverence. 

St.  Paul  does  not  advance  the  doctrine  under  the  seal  of 
apostolic  authority,  nor  say  that  he  has  received  it  in  the 
way  of  supernatural  illumination.  He  appeals  for  its  truth 
to  our  rational  nature,  and  to  experience,  though  not  the  ex- 
perience of  every  day.  He  evidently  regards  it  as  a  truth, 
which,  however  attained,  yet,  being  once  stated,  can  hardly 
be  questioned.  He  presumes  that  we  must  all  feel  with  him, 
that  there  is  an  analogy  between  the  world  of  nature  and  of 
spirit :  that  the  one  is  but  the  tyjDe  and  shadow  of  the  other  ; 
and  that  the  great  spiritual  law  which  connects  our  past  with 
our  present,  and  our  present  with  our  future  state,  is  but 
an  application  or  department  of  one  of  those  great  general 
laws  which  run  through  all  existence.  Partly  through  ex- 
perience, partly  through  inward  discernment,  we  come  to 
understand  that  there  is  a  spiritual  as  well  as  a  natural 
husbandry  ;  and  that,  when  we  speak  of  a  spiritual  harvest, 
our  language  is  more  than  a  figure  of  speech  :  it  is  an  anal- 
ogy, which,  in  view  of  the  unity  and  harmony  which  per- 
vade the  universe,  carries  in  it  the  force  of  demonstration. 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  great  law  by  operation  of  which 
God  executes  judgment :  the  law  of  moral  sequence,  by 
which  an  effect  corresponds  to  its  cause  in  the  moral  as  in 


MACKINTOSH.]     THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.  I35 

the  physical  and  natural  world  ;  the  law  by  which  we  pro- 
ceed from  less  to  more,  whether  of  good  or  evil  ;  the  order 
by  which  good  action  leads  to  greater  good,  and  evil  action 
to  greater  evil  ;  the  principle  which  insures  that  it  shall  be 
well  with  the  righteous  and  ill  with  the  the  wicked.  Divine 
judgment  in  this  sense  follows  human  action  with  undeviat- 
ing  regularity.  There  is  nothing  arbitrary,  nothing  arti- 
ficial in  that  judgment ;  but  all  is  natural,  as  natural  as  the 
successive  stages  in  the  growth  of  a  plant.  The  present  is 
the  seed-time,  the  harvest  will  follow  ;  and  the  analogy  be- 
tween the  spiritual  and  the  natural  harvest  requires  that  as 
we  sow  we  shall  reap.  As  every  seed  produces  fruit  after 
its  kind,  as  w^heat  produces  wheat,  and  tares  produce  tares, 
so  the  good  we  do  brings  a  harvest  of  good,  and  the  evil  a 
harvest  of  evil.  Our  good  deeds  form  into  habits,  and  our 
habits  of  well-doing  become  a  second  nature.  Our  evil 
deeds  form  into  habits  of  evil-doing,  and  these  become 
inveterate.  It  is  thus,  and  thus  alone,  that  our  Lord  could 
say  that,  for  every  idle  word  that  men  speak,  they  shall  give 
account  thereof  in  the  day  of  judgment.  No  word  so  fleet- 
ing, but  it  will  leave  its  trace  upon  the  soul  of  the  speaker. 
In  the  language  of  a  great  living  writer — 

"  Our  deeds  still  travel  with  us  from  afar, 
And  what  we  liave  been  makes  us  what  we  are." 

Notwithstanding  all  appearances  to  the  contrary,  this 
law  is  of  universal  force,  incessant  and  invariable  in  its  oper- 
ation. To  see  that  such  is  the  case,  and  that  what  are  called 
exceptions  to  the  law  ai'e  only  apparent,  Ave  must  empha- 
size the  sameness  in  kind  between  the  seed  which  we  sow 
and  the  fruit  which  we  gather.  It  is  not  enough  to  say  that 
we  reap  evil  if  we  sow  evil,  and  that  we  reap  good  if  we 
sow  good,  but  we  must  add  that  the  good  which  we  reap  is 
the  same  in  kind  as  that  which  we  sow.  A  man  can  not 
reap  Avheat  if  he  sow  tares,  but  as  little  can  he  reap  one 
kind  of  grain,  such  as  wheat,  by  sowing  another  kind  of 


136  THE  LA  W  OF  MOIiAL   CONTINUITY.      [sermon  ix. 

grain,  such  as  barley.  For  "  God  hath  given  to  every  seed 
a  body  of  its  own,"  which  it  can  not  put  off  or  exchange, 
even  when  it  dies  and  is  quickened  again.  Even  so  a  man 
can  as  little  sow  one  kind  of  good  and  reap  another  kind  of 
good,  as  he  can  sow  evil  and  reap  good,  A  man  can  not 
be  sure  that,  by  sowing  moral  good,  he  will  reap  physical 
good  or  inward  happiness.  A  fair  reputation,  mental  re- 
pose, and  abundance  of  the  things  of  this  life  are  all  good 
in  themselves,  and  greatly  to  be  desired,  but  they  are  not 
the  true  or  highest  good  for  which  we  must  "  labor  "  ;  they 
are  uncertain  of  continuance,  unsatisfying  at  the  best,  and 
not  to  be  compared  with  that  enduring  substance  on  which 
we  must  set  our  hearts.  The  inferior  good  is  generally 
"  added  "  to  those  who  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  there 
is  in  general  a  more  or  less  palpable  or  subtile  connection 
between  the  higher  and  the  lower  good  ;  the  latter  is  a  more 
or  less  probable  contingent  or  accessory  of  the  former,  but 
not  its  necessary  sequel.  The  connection  is  often  dissolved, 
or  even  reversed,  at  least  in  the  experience  of  the  individ- 
ual. "  There  be  just  men,  to  whom  it  happeneth  after  the 
work  of  the  righteous,  and  wicked  men  to  whom  it  happen- 
eth after  the  work  of  the  righteous."  An  upright  life  may 
be  rewarded  with  poverty  and  loss  ;  comfort  and  high  es- 
tate may  follow  in  the  train  of  intense  selfishness  and  great 
criminality.  The  inflexibility  of  a  man's  vii'tue  may  doom 
him  to  defeat  and  disappointment,  while  the  easiness  and 
pliancy  of  another  man's  morality  may  be  the  very  thing 
which  enables  him  to  make  the  best  of  this  world.  As  the 
great  poet  says,  "  Some  rise  by  sin,  and  some  by  virtue  fall." 
A  man  may  carry  a  guilty  secret  in  his  heart,  and  through 
obtuseness  of  the  moral  sense,  or  a  reprobate  hardihood,  he 
may  be  able  to  derive  full  and  unquestionable  enjoyment 
from  the  fruits  of  his  crime.  Whereas  the  very  first  step 
to  repentance,  the  first  acknowledgment  or  discovery  of 
his  guilt,  may  involve  for  him  the  loss  of  all  earthly  happi- 


MACKiNTOsn.J     THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL  CONTINUITY.  137 

ness,  comfort,  and  respect,  though  it  may  also  be  the  seed 
or  starting-point  of  a  new  and  better  life. 

The  apostle's  meaning,  therefore,  is  not  that  a  man  will 
derive  physical  comfort,  and  outward,  or  even  mental,  hap- 
piness from  following  the  right  ;  for  a  man's  desire  of  hap- 
piness may  be  thwarted  by  the  mere  fact  of  his  obedience 
to  the  requirements  of  his  higher  nature,  by  a  scrupulous 
adherence  to  the  golden  rule.  But  the  meaning  is  that,  ac- 
cording as  a  man  sows  a  good  or  a  bad  life,  he  shall  reap  a 
better  or  a  worse  life.  His  good  or  evil  deeds  wax  into 
habits,  and  produce  corresponding  states  of  mind,  which 
bring  harmony  or  disorder,  freedom  or  enslavement,  into 
the  inner  life.  The  only  certain,  as  it  is  the  highest  and 
most  sufficing,  enjoyment  arises  from  the  mind  being  con- 
sciously at  peace  within  itself,  and  in  harmony  with  the 
divine  and  universal  order.  To  pursue  our  sepai'ate  and 
individual  aims  is  to  bring  us  into  conflict  with  that  order, 
and  to  land  us  in  misery. 

Emphatic  reference  is  frequently  made  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament to  the  principle  of  judgment,  or  of  recompense  as 
now  explained.  It  was  what  St.  Paul  had  in  view  when  he 
says  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans  that  God  "  will  reward 
every  man  according  to  his  works."  In  the  Epistle  to  the 
Colossians  he  says,  by  literal  rendering,  "  He  that  doeth 
wrong  shall  receive  back  the  wrong  which  he  did."  The 
very  wrong  which  he  did  returns  upon  the  doer.  The 
spirit  which  vented  itself  in  wrong-doing  is  intensified  in 
him.  And  our  Lord  said,  "  Blessed  are  they  that  do  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness,  for  they  shall  be  filled  " — 
filled  with  that  very  righteousness  for  which  they  hunger. 
It  is  just  by  the  operation  of  this  law  of  recompense,  or  of 
continuous  development,  that  God  rewards  men  impartially, 
that  a  righteous  judgment  is  passed  upon  all  men.  It  is 
by  this  all-embracing  order  that  God  trains  and  judges  the 
rational  creation.     This  is  the  true  Theodicy;  and,  if  there 


138  THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.      [sermon  ix. 

be  any  other  form  of  judgment,  it  is  quite  secondary,  or 
auxiliary  to  this. 

We  may  still  make  use  of  such  words  as  reward  and 
punishment ;  but  such  words,  however  familiar  to  our  lips, 
and  however  descriptive  of  human  means  and  modes  of  dis- 
cipline, must  be  applied  with  much  caution  and  reserve  to 
the  consequences  of  our  actions  as  regulated  by  the  Divine 
order.  Those  consequences  which  seem  to  answer  most 
truly  to  the  ideas  expressed  by  such  words  are  nothing,  as 
we  have  seen,  but  the  fruit  or  natural  development  of  the 
good  or  evil  we  have  done,  and  are  neither  extrinsically  su- 
peradded nor  arbitrarily  imposed.  These  same  ideas  are 
often  associated  in  men's  minds  with  good  or  evil  fortune, 
in  cases  with  which  they  have  no  proper  connection.  Thus, 
striking  calamities  are  of  frequent  occurrence,  in  which 
physical  and  social  evils  concentrate  themselves  at  certain 
points,  and  these  are  popularly  called  judgments  of  God  ; 
acts  of  his  punitive  justice.  But  both  Science  and  Scrip- 
ture warn  us  to  be  cautious  in  the  use  of  such  lansfuaffe. 
Those  on  whom  the  tower  of  Siloam  fell  were  not,  there- 
fore, greater  sinners  than  all  other  men  ;  and  scientific  in- 
vestigation has  taught  us  to  trace  physical  evil  to  physical 
causes  ;  to  perceive  that,  as  some  one  has  remarked,  "  plagues 
are  not,  as  Bishop  Porteous  said,  the  ghastly  ministers  of 
Heaven's  wrath,  but  simply  the  result  of  neglecting  sanitary 
conditions."  In  many  cases,  no  doubt,  such  calamities  may 
be  said  to  be  judgments  in  an  intermediate  or  secondary 
sense,  just  because  they  are  instances  to  a  greater  or  less 
extent  of  the  law  of  retribution.  Dissipated  habits  under- 
mine the  health.  As  surely  as  a  disregard  of  cleanliness 
and  decency  tends  to  induce  epidemics,  so  immoderate  self- 
indulgence  tends  not  only  to  weaken  and  deprave  the  cor- 
poreal powers,  but  also  to  vitiate  the  mind.  And  such  in- 
flictions are  truly  beneficent,  because  they  act  as  auxiliaries 
of  the  moral  order,  and  are  suitable  to  a  state  of  discipline. 


MACKINTOSH.]     THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.  I39 

serving  to  repress  transgressions  of  that  order,  and  to  pro- 
mote the  observance  of  it  ;  and  thus  operating  in  a  general 
way  to  the  same  end  as  the  law  of  moral  continuity,  by  the 
direct  and  infallible  action  of  which,  without  the  interven- 
tion of  any  supplementary  or  epicyclical  contrivance,  God 
judges  the  world  in  the  true  and  full  sense  of  the  word. 

The  views  here  presented  have  not  only  obtained  a  wide 
currency  in  later  times,  but  are  able  also,  as  we  believe,  to 
bear  the  most  rigid  scrutiny  ;  and  if  it  be  an  axiom  or  first 
principle  of  theology,  that  we  ought  to  accept  no  dogma 
which  contradicts  the  sure  conclusions  of  reason,  it  seems  to 
follow  that  we  may  have  to  modify  the  popular  belief  of 
Christendom  concerning  a  day  of  final  judgment  to  decide 
irrevocably  the  destinies  both  of  the  good  and  of  the  bad. 
Turn  it  over  in  our  thoughts  as  we  may,  it  is  difficult  to 
bring  the  ordinary  idea  of  such  a  day  into  harmony  with 
the  doctrine  of  the  spiritual  harvest.  By  all  who  accept 
the  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  it  will  be  admitted  that  the 
departing  soul  will  carry  with  it  into  that  life  the  same 
moral  state  which  it  has  formed  for  itself  here.  Its  works, 
whether  good  or  bad,  will  follow  it  thither  ;  each  of  them 
will  have  left  upon  the  soul  its  stamp  and  imprint.  At  the 
moment  when  it  is  ushered  into  another  world,  every  soul 
will  have  reached  a  certain  stage  of  moral  development  or 
of  moral  degeneracy.  And  the  belief  common  among  us  is, 
that  on  the  day  of  judgment  one  class  of  souls  will  not  only 
be  acquitted  from  the  consequences  of  all  the  evil  that  yet 
cleaves  to  them,  but  will  be  suddenly  perfected  in  holiness 
and  freed  from  all  remaining  taint  and  infection  of  sin. 
Upon  the  other  class,  a  sentence  and  a  transformation  of 
quite  an  opposite  character  will  be  passed,  though,  confess- 
edly, the  day  of  judgment  will  find  the  characters  of  both 
classes  compounded  both  of  good  and  evil.  It  has  been 
said,  indeed,  that  the  difference  between  the  two  classes  is 
one  in  kind,  because  sin  has  lost  that  dominion  in  the  one 


140  TEE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.      [seemok  ix. 

class  which  it  retains  in  the  other.  But  this  difference, 
even  if  it  be  one  in  kind,  and  not,  after  all,  in  degree  only, 
does  not  account  for  what  is  supposed  to  take  place.  In 
the  life  to  come,  the  dominating  powei',  whether  good  or 
evil,  in  the  case  of  any  individual  can  only  determine,  or 
form  a  factor  in,  the  further  development  of  that  individ- 
ual, just  as  it  does  in  the  present  life  ;  but  it  can  not  achieve 
for  itself  a  total  and  immediate  triumph,  as  is  supposed.  It 
is  obvious,  therefore,  that  though  we  may  and  do  connect 
the  idea  of  such  a  day  of  judgment  with  the  language  of 
the  apostle,  yet  the  two  ideas  are  quite  incomj^atible.  So 
far  from  being  an  exemplification  of  the  principle  involved, 
such  a  day  of  judgment  w^ould  much  rather  be  a  violation 
and  a  subversion  of  it.  If  the  judgment  be  final,  and  the 
extinction  of  evil,  which  coexists  with  the  good,  be  com- 
plete and  sudden,  it  is  evident  that  the  gradual  and  natural 
process  of  moral  amelioration,  which  began  here,  would  be 
foreclosed  and  precipitated  by  a  supernatural  fiat  of  Al- 
mighty power.  That  moral  discipline  v/hich  is  in  hai-mony 
with  human  responsibility,  and  with  the  idea  of  moral  de- 
velopment, would  be  suddenly  arrested,  A  Divine  decree 
would  complete  the  work  already  begun,  and  supernatural 
action  would  be  introduced  into  a  scene  where  it  Avould  be 
as  much  out  of  place  as  in  the  present  order  of  things. 

The  subjects  of  this  astounding  transformation  will,  by 
supposition,  occupy  very  different  stages  in  the  scale  of 
moral  development.  In  some,  the  development  will  only 
have  commenced  ;  in  others,  it  will  be  far  advanced  ;  and 
if  a  Divine  fiat  may  thus  at  any  point  interfere  with  the 
natural  course  of  things,  it  is  hard  to  see  why  it  might  not 
have  interfered  at  the  very  first  to  prevent  the  incursion  of 
evil  into  the  world.  Such  interference  on  the  day  of  judg- 
ment is  as  inadmissible,  because  as  inconsistent  with  human 
liberty,  and  with  an  inviolable  order,  as  at  any  other  crisis 
in  the  history  of  man. 


MACKINTOSH.]     THE  LAW  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.  \^l 

It  can  never  be  of  little  moment  to  bring  our  ideas  of 
religious  subjects  into  harmony  with  the  truth  and  nature 
of  things.  A  divergence  of  our  theories  from  reality  is  apt 
sooner  or  later  to  avenge  itself  by  leading  to  some  practical 
error,  or  by  entailing  the  loss  of  some  practical  influence. 
And  it  seems  to  us  as  if  the  idea  of  a  day  of  final  judgment 
exposed  iis  to  a  risk  of  this  kind.  It  is  the  substitution  of 
an  artificial  for  a  natural  conception  of  Divine  judgment ; 
of  a  human  and  imperfect  for  a  Divine  procedure.  On  a 
mind  little  trained  to  reflection,  the  notion  of  a  day  and  a 
throne  set  for  judgment  will  make  a  vivid,  because  a  defi- 
nite, impression.  But  to  a  reflecting  mind  the  notion  of 
a  continuous  and  progressive  judgment,  before  as  well  as 
after  death,  is  much  more  impressive,  and  much  more  pow- 
erfully operative  as  a  check  and  counterpoise  to  the  solici- 
tations of  lust  and  selfishness.  In  the  one  case,  life  is  re- 
garded as  a  mere  trial  or  probation,  which  being  successfully 
endured  is  rewarded  by  perfected  holiness,  and  an  immedi- 
ate cessation  of  all  sinful  motions.  Impressed  by  such  an 
idea,  the  soul  will  strive  to  undergo  the  ordeal,  and  hope 
that  its  failures  under  trial  will  all  be  made  sfood.  In  the 
other  case,  life  is  regarded  as  an  education  ;  and  the  prob- 
lem of  life  is  to  extii-pate  the  evil  in  our  nature  by  degrees, 
in  actual  personal  conflict.  In  this  latter  case  there  can  be 
no  thought  of  getting  rid  of  evil  by  any  forensic  act  or  sov- 
ereign fiat  of  the  Judge.  If,  by  an  act  of  sovereign  power, 
God  may  bring  the  halting  course  of  moral  development 
to  its  destined  period,  even  the  impenitent,  provided  their 
faith  be  strong  enough,  may  hope — not  without  reason — to 
impetrate  the  exercise  at  any  moment  of  such  a  power  in 
their  behalf  ;  while  those  who  have  entered  the  narrow  path 
may  be  tempted  to  slacken  their  pace,  or  to  relax  their 
moral  effort,  if  they  are  taught  to  expect  that  their  short- 
comings, more  or  less,  may  be  canceled  at  last  by  a  sudden 
translation  to  the  goal. 


142  THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.       [sermon  ix. 

It  may  be  said  that,  if  such  views  be  generally  accepted, 
the  cause  of  morality  and  religion  will  lose  that  leverage 
which  it  derives  from  the  dogma  of  a  final  and  irreversible 
doom  determined  by  our  condition  at  the  moment  of  our 
departure  from  this  life  ;  that,  if  time  and  space  for  repent- 
ance may  be  looked  for  after  death,  the  natural  tendency 
to  levity  and  procrastination  will  receive  a  fresh  accession 
of  force.  But,  is  then  that  loss  so  great,  or  the  aggrava- 
tion of  this  tendency  so  certain  ?  Is  it  not  an  undoubted 
fact  that  the  common  doctrine,  though  addressed  to  our 
fears,  and  calculated,  as  it  may  seem,  to  strike  terror,  and 
to  call  to  immediate  repentance,  yet  fails  most  signally,  in 
the  case  of  large  numbers,  to  give  impetus  to  effort,  or  to 
produce  that  moral  earnestness  which  is  currently  ascribed 
to  its  influence  ?  Do  not  the  inherent  incredibility  and  in- 
justice of  a  penalty  utterly  disproportioned  to  the  sin  beget, 
in  the  case  of  multitudes,  a  merciful  skepticism,  and  a  not 
altogether  ignoble  determination  to  brave  the  unknown  ter- 
rors of  the  other  world  ?  That  doctrine,  again,  according 
to  which  the  present  and  the  future  life  are  connected  by 
the  law  of  continuity — though  it  may  be  less  fitted  to  keep 
us  trembling  on  the  brink  of  despair,  and  to  subject  the 
mind  to  a  state  of  all  but  intolerable  tension,  though  it  mav 
even  annul  one  urgent  motive  to  immediate  repentance — yet 
tells  us  that,  by  a  continuance  in  sin,  we,  day  by  day,  surely 
consolidate  about  us  the  walls  of  a  prison-house,  from  which 
we  shall  "  by  no  means  come  out,  until  we  have  paid  the 
uttermost  farthing  "  ;  that  the  burden  of  sin  will  continue 
to  oppress  us,  and  be  the  source  of  misery  to  us  there  as 
here,  until,  by  a  discipline  of  unknown  severity,  the  cords 
which  bind  it  on  our  souls  are  undone.  And  surely  such  a 
doctrine  as  this  can  not,  if  well  considered,  give  encourage- 
ment to  indifference  or  levity. 

We  are  far  from  saying  that  the  popular  idea  of  a  day 
of  judgment  is  positively  or  altogether  pernicious,  but  only 


MACKINTOSH.]     THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.  143 

that  it  is  less  influential,  especially  for  men  of  thought  and 
culture,  than  that  of  an  ever-present  judgment.  We  do 
not  deny  even  that  there  may  be  an  important  truth  under- 
lying the  popular  conception.  It  is  quite  in  harmony  with 
the  idea  of  an  inviolable  moral  order,  that  for  the  individual 
soul  its  entrance  into  a  new  stage  of  existence,  and  for  the 
whole  race  the  end  of  the  world,  may  be  a  point  or  crisis  of 
immense  significance  and  range  in  determining  the  further 
development  of  the  individual  and  the  race.  A  new  motive 
power  may  thus  be  called  into  existence  simply  by  what  the 
Scriptures  call  the  revelation  of  the  righteous  judgment  of 
God  ;  the  revelation  of  that  inflexible  moral  order  in  com- 
pliance with  which  alone  the  race  and  the  individual  can 
reach  the  goal  marked  out  for  them,  but  which  in  the  pres- 
ent mingled  scene  men  have  such  difticulty  in  apprehending. 
If  amid  new  conditions  that  order  reveal  itself  more  dis- 
tinctly to  human  vision,  it  is  conceivable  that  the  further 
development  of  some  may  be  accelerated,  while  a  turning- 
point  may  be  gained  for  others  whose  course  hitherto  has 
taken  the  wrong  direction.  How  this  may  be  so  we  shall 
yet  see  when  we  come,  in  speaking  of  the  renovating  power 
of  Christianity,  to  consider  the  mode  in  which  an  accession 
of  light  operates  on  the  mind.  The  revelation  of  the  judg- 
ment of  God  will  be  but  a  supplement  to  that  which  has 
been  made  to  us  in  Christ,  and  will  enhance  its  operation  in 
delivering  us  from  evil. 

"We  understand,  then,  that  the  judgment  of  God  is  only 
another  name  for  the  natural  and  inevitable  consequence  of 
our  lives.  That  judgment  will  be  executed,  not  once  for 
all,  as  we  have  been  taught  to  believe,  by  a  separate  Divine 
decree  or  verdict  in  each  individual  case,  but  by  the  opera- 
tion of  a  universal  law  established  from  the  first  by  the 
Governor  of  all.  It  has  begun  already  for  every  one  of 
us,  and  is  going  on  continually,  leading  on  gradually  to 
higher  and  ever  higher  issues.     As  the  harvest  of  this  year 


144  THE  LA  W  OF  MORAL   CONTINUITY.       [seruon  ix. 

furnishes  seed  for  the  year  following,  so  the  chain  of  moral 
sequence,  good  or  evil,  is  carried  on  in  unbroken  continuity. 
We  may  not  see  cleai'ly  the  process,  while  it  is  still  going 
on,  the  growth  of  habit  and  of  tendency  being  for  the  most 
part  insensible.  Amid  the  hardships  of  our  moral  warfare, 
and  amid  the  apparent  freedom  and  intoxication  of  present 
indulgence,  we  may  long  fail  to  see  that  the  tyranny  of  ac- 
quired habits  is  but  the  fruit  of  past  indulgence  ;  it  may 
only  be  on  rare  occasions  that  we  have  the  bitter  feeling 
that  we  are  reaping  the  reward  of  our  evil  deeds.  But  the 
Scriptures  speak  of  the  revelation  or  full  manifestation  of 
the  righteous  judgment  of  God,  when,  the  whole  process 
being  transferred  to  a  new  condition  of  things,  it  may  stand 
forth  in  clear  outline  before  the  universe.  That  law,  hith- 
erto revealed  only  to  a  select  few,  may  then  reveal  itself  to 
every  soul  of  man,  as  the  outcome  of  his  earthly  experience, 
and  constitute  by  its  revelation  a  new  motive  power  in  the 
education  of  the  race. 

No  doubt,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  imagine  how  moral 
discipline  can  be  continued  under  other  conditions  in  a  fu- 
ture state.  But  this  is  no  objection  to  the  views  now  stated. 
For  St.  Paul  himself,  and  Luther  in  his  usual  frank  and 
outspoken  manner,  besides  many  others  best  qualified  to 
give  an  opinion  on  the  subject,  have  confessed  themselves 
quite  unable,  on  the  old  dogmatic  lines  of  thought,  to  form 
any  conception  of  a  future  state.  The  whole  subject  lies 
utterly  out  of  our  field  of  vision,  and  beyond  our  compre- 
hension, whatever  view  be  taken  of  divine  judgment ;  and 
all  we  can  be  sure  of,  all  that  for  the  purposes  of  present 
discipline  we  need  to  be  sure  of,  is  that  law  will  continue  to 
assert  itself  there  as  here,  and  that  God,  the  Judge  of  all 
the  earth,  will  do  right. 

We  have  seen  that,  upward  of  two  thousand  years  ago, 
the  principle  of  moral  continuity,  if  not  thought  out,  was 
at  least  divined  by  a  few  gifted  spirits  ;  yet  we  must  admit 


MACKINTOSH.]     THE  LAW  OF  MOEAL   CONTINUITY.  145 

that,  until  a  comparatively  recent   period,  almost   indeed 
until  the  present  age,  the  apprehension  of  it  by  all  but  a 
few,  if  not  even  by  these  few,  was  only  approximative.    The 
moral  sentiment  could  hardly  emerge  as  a  conscious  and 
authoritative  factor  of  human  life,  without  the  discovery 
being  made  at  the  same  time  that  virtue  is  in  some  sense  its 
own  reward,  and  that,  in  the  words  of  the  Wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon, "  wherewithal  a  man  sins,  by  the  same  shall  he  be 
punished."     But  language  such  as  this,  which  abounds  in 
every  literature,  is  far  from  involving  a  distinct  and  ade- 
quate recognition  of  moral  sequence.     The  great  mediaeval 
poet,  in  whom  "  ten  silent  centuries  found  a  voice,"  intended 
in  his  "  Divina  Commedia  "  to  represent  in  action  the  principle 
of  recompense,  founding  for  this  purpose  on  the  legendary 
materials  and  popular  beliefs  of  his  period.    But  as  ice  read 
the  lurid  imaginings  of  his  *'  Inferno,"  and  compare  them 
with  the  real  drama  of  Divine  judgment,  we  feel  that  they  do 
not  turn  to  burlesque,  only  because  they  pass  into  allegory. 
They  survive  for  us  as  a  splendid  creation  of  poetic  fancy, 
so  elastic  in  its  truthfulness  as  to  shadow  forth  an  idea  of 
recompense  more  true  and  spiritual  than  the  poet  himself 
intended  to  embody.     Only  in  these  later  times,  when  sci- 
ence, in  its  researches  into  the  material  world,  has  lighted 
everywhere  upon  the  traces  of  an  all-pervading  continuity, 
has  the  existence  in  the  moral  and  spiritual  worlds  of  an 
analogous  principle  been  confidently  postulated.     And,  if  it 
can  be  shown,  without  prejudice  to  the  religious  sentiment, 
that  the  principle  of  continuity  obtains  in  the  moral  sphere 
no  less  than  in  the  material,  and  rules  the  succession  of  re- 
ligious as  of  other  phenomena— that  the  judgment  of  God 
upon  human  action  is  immanent  in  the  action  itself — this 
will  be  a  step  toward  that  reconciliation  of  faith  with  sci- 
ence, the  conscious  or  suspected  lack  of  which  is  the  specific 
danger  of  our  age,  the  source  of  its  universal  unrest,  and  of 
its  all  but  universal  skepticism. 
1 


146  THE  HEN OVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 


X. 

THE  EENOYATING  POWER  OF   CHRIS- 
TIANITY. 

BY    THE   REV.  WILLIAM   MACKINTOSH,    D.  D.,  BUCHANAN. 

"  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap." — Gal.  vi,  7. 

From  these  words  of  St.  Paul,  and  from  other  passages 
of  Scripture,  we  collect  that  the  gospel  does  not  profess  to 
exempt  us  from  the  law  of  recompense  ;  or,  which  is  the 
same  thing,  from  the  law  of  moral  continuity.  It  is  to  the 
infinite  credit  of  Christianity,  that,  so  far  from  seeking  to 
magnify  itself,  by  professing  to  make  this  or  any  law  void, 
it  asserts  the  validity  for  all  time  of  whatever  is  law.  But, 
if  this  be  so,  we  have  to  ask.  What  the  gospel  is  good  for  ? 
What  title  has  it  to  that  designation  ?  What  service  does 
it  render  ?  From  what  fear  does  it  deliver,  from  what  bur- 
den does  it  relieve  us  ?  The  law  of  the  spiritual  harvest  is 
that  evil  is  the  natural  product  of  evil ;  that  nothing  either 
good  or  evil  ever  perishes  of  itself,  but  must,  in  some  way, 
influence,  or  enter  as  an  element  into,  the  future.  Conscious 
of  the  evil  that  is  in  us,  we  feel  that  our  faith  and  our  hopes 
are  vain,  unless  by  some  means  good  can  come  out  of  evil, 
or  take  the  place  of  evil,  even  though  it  may  be  that  the 
evil  that  passes  may  leave  its  trace  in  the  color  and  char- 
acter of  the  good  that  abides.  The  final  result  of  the  evil 
may  be  only  to  differentiate  the  good,  which  in  this  differ- 
entiation will  carry  within  itself  the  data  or  evidence  of  its 
history  and  growth.     It  is  by  the  harmonizing  of  such  dif- 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CnRISTIANITY.  147 

ferentiated  elements  that  the  process  of  self-development, 
by  which  man  becomes  the  builder-up  of  his  own  highest 
self,  is  saved  from  insipid  uniformity,  and  the  moral  sphere 
is  impressed  with  that  variety  and  shading  of  character  in 
which  the  manifold  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  loves  to 
mirror  itself  in  the  spiritual  as  in  the  natural  world.  Now, 
though  we  have  no  hint  of  anything  of  the  kind  in  the 
text,  this  is  just  what  the  gospel  does  teach  us  to  expect 
and  look  for.  We  feel  indeed  that,  unless  the  good  could 
supplant,  could  get  the  better  of,  the  evil  that  is  in  us, 
there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  a  gospel  or  message  of  glad- 
ness to  man.  The  gospel  is  what  it  is,  and  what  it  professes 
to  be,  just  because  it  shows  us  the  way  from  evil  to  good  ; 
just  because  it  delivers  us  from  the  one  and  brings  us  to 
the  other.  But  it  is  necessary  to  know  in  what  sense  and 
how  far  it  accomplishes  this,  that  we  may  not  be  led  astray 
by  a  mere  form  of  words,  or  misconstrue  the  method  by 
which  the  gospel  confers  this  benefit  upon  us. 

Undoubtedly  there  is  much  difficulty  in  conceiving  how 
there  can  be  room  for  amendment  and  conversion,  side  by 
side  with  the  existence  of  a  law  of  moral  development,  and 
with  the  idea  of  moral  continuity.  It  seems  as  if,  by  insist- 
ing on  the  tendency  of  every  action  to  confirm  the  dispo- 
sition from  which  it  springs,  we  go  far  to  deny  the  free 
agency  of  man,  the  possibility  of  repentance,  and  the  power 
of  Christianity  or  of  any  other  influence  to  initiate  and  effect 
a  renovation  of  human  life.  But  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  difficulty  exists  of  conceiving  how  good  may  spring 
up,  as  confessedly  it  often  does,  in  the  midst  of  evil,  whether 
we  adopt  that  idea  or  not ;  and  that  it  exists,  moreover,  for 
the  physiologist  no  less  than  for  the  moralist  and  the  theo- 
logian. The  physiologist  admits  the  persistence  of  force 
and  the  law  of  moral  sequence,  but  affirms  none  the  less  that 
the  evils  arising  from  past  indulgence  may  be  neutralized  by 
the  exercise  of  self-denial ;  that  pernicious  habits  may  be 


148  TBE  RENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 

and  often  are  overcome  by  reversing  the  process  by  which 
they  have  been  contracted  ;  and  that  a  spiritual  force,  latent 
in  every  one  of  us,  may  be  summoned  forth  to  counteract 
the  tendencies  to  evil  which  have  been  fostered  and  strength- 
ened by  long  use  and  habit.  It  is  not,  however,  with  the 
mere  theoretical  difficulty  involved  in  the  conception  or  ra- 
tionale of  that  force  that  we  have  here  to  do,  but  rather 
with  the  practical  and  objective  difficulty  involved  in  the 
effort  requisite  for  calling  up  the  force  to  counteract  the 
evil  that  has  possession  of  the  heart,  and  to  give  impulse  to 
the  endeavor  after  the  better  life. 

In  modern  phraseology  a  sense  of  the  painfulness  and 
difficulty  involved  in  the  earnest  and  successful  exerting  of 
that  force  has  found  expression  for  itself  in  the  saying  that 
men  never  change,  they  only  develop  ;  which,  if  it  be  re- 
ceived with  certain  qualifications,  represents  an  undeniable 
fact,  but  which  is  too  often  an  utterance  of  the  direst  and 
most  hopeless  skepticism.  The  same  feeling  was  expressed 
in  ancient  times  by  Job,  "  Who  can  bring  a  clean  thing  out  of 
an  unclean  ?  "  and  by  Jeremiah,  "  Can  the  Ethiopian  change 
his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots  ?  Then  may  ye  who  are  ac- 
customed to  do  evil  learn  to  do  well."  To  both  these  thinkers 
it  seemed  that  to  change  the  tenor  of  a  life  was  equivalent 
to  a  physical  impossibility  ;  much  as  it  seems  to  any  one  who 
takes  the  law  of  moral  development  and  continuity  into  ac- 
count. The  conception  of  that  law  does  not  aggravate  the 
difficulty,  but  only  gives  expression  to  it,  or  explains  its 
nature.  Our  Lord  also  seems  to  have  been  painfully,  almost 
despairingly,  sensible  of  the  same  difficulty,  as  for  instance 
when  He  said,  "  O  generation  of  vipers,  how  can  ye  being 
evil  speak  good  things  ?  "  or  when  He  declared  that  "  a  cor- 
rupt tree  can  not  bring  forth  good  fruit."  To  say  this  and 
yet  not  to  despair  of  man  was  no  small  evidence  of  his  faith 
in  man's  Maker.  In  man,  no  doubt,  there  is  a  will  to  do 
good,  but  how  to  perform  is  the  difficulty  ;  and  in  the  pres- 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CIIEISTIANITy.  I49 

ence  of  the  evil  bias,  and  by  comparison  with  it,  that  will 
to  do  good  seems  to  be  the  weakest  of  all  things.  The  sense 
of  its  weakness,  contrasted  with  the  magnitude  of  the  issues 
depending  on  it,  seems  to  have  filled  even  St.  Paul  with 
"  wretchedness  "  ;  and  the  question  which  long  after  his  con- 
version continued  to  haunt  and  to  agitate  his  mind  was  just 
this  :  how  that  which  was  thus  weak  could  confound  that 
which  was  mighty;  how  a  man  could  struggle  against  that 
to  which  he  is  naturally  inclined,  and  overcome  that  which 
is  strongest  in  him  ;  how  the  will  to  do  good,  which  was  as 
if  it  were  not,  could  bring  to  naught  the  things  that  were, 
and  counteract  that  gravitation  to  evil  which  is  a  power  in- 
deed in  the  soul. 

St.  Paul  was  confident  that  the  better  will,  when  reen- 
forced  by  Christian  influences,  could  and  would  triumph  ; 
but  to  conceive  of  these  influences  as  an  exertion  of  super- 
natural grace,  as  he  is  generally  supposed  to  do,  is  little  else 
than  to  explain  away  the  difficulty,  and  really  to  deprive 
the  process  of  conversion  of  all  its  value  and  all  its  mystery. 
We  have  rather  to  seek  the  explanation  of  it  in  the  latent 
capacities  of  our  nature  ;  in  the  balance  of  good  and  evil 
within  us  ;  in  the  vitality  and  spontaneousness  of  a  spiritual 
force,  of  a  higher  nature  within  us,  to  which  the  gospel  ap- 
peals ;  and  in  the  action  of  the  Divine  idea,  as  the  gospel 
presents  it,  upon  the  reason  of  man.  We  say  that  this 
spiritual  force,  though  held  in  durance  and  oppressed  under 
the  weight  of  evil,  yet,  if  touched  and  brought  into  sym- 
pathy and  rapport  with  the  power  of  goodness  "  not  our- 
selves," leaps  forth  into  light  and  gathers  strength,  despite 
of  prevailing  evil,  in  a  way  which,  to  men  who  are  inwardly 
conscious  of  it,  has  often  seemed  to  be  nothing  short  of  mi- 
raculous and  divine.  In  thus  ascribing  to  an  interaction 
between  the  longing  or  aspiration  within  us  and  the  ten- 
dency of  things  without  us  an  effect  of  such  decisive  im- 
portance to  our  spiritual  life,  we  are  led  into  proximity  with 


150  TEE  BENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 

the  esoteric  doctrine  of  Brahminism,  which  a  great  Oriental- 
ist has  recently  expounded,  viz.,  that  there  is  no  hope  of 
salvation  for  man  except  by  the  individual  self  recognizing 
the  true  and  universal  self  and  finding  rest  in  it. 

However  much  a  man  may  give  himself  up  to  the  service 
and  practice  of  sin,  yet  the  dominion  of  sin,  notwithstand- 
ing its  self -perpetuating  and  self-intensifying  power,  never 
becomes  absolute  and  undisputed.  When  we  say  that  an 
evil  habit  is  self -perpetuating,  we  speak  of  a  tendency,  not 
of  a  necessity.  The  better  principle  has  within  itself  the 
potency  of  a  reactive  force,  the  possibility  of  a  new  life, 
which  may  encroach  on  the  dominion  of  evil,  and  even  estab- 
lish its  own  supremacy,  though  seldom  without  a  struggle 
by  which  the  soul  is  almost  rent  in  pieces.  The  painful 
effort  which  it  costs  to  loosen  the  hold  with  which  habits  of 
sin  have  fastened  on  the  soul  is  the  penalty  which  we  pay 
for  past  indulgence  ;  a  painfulness  which  is  familiar  to  the 
experience  of  many  of  us,  and  which  in  the  gospel  is  sym- 
bolized by  the  cross,  by  the  strait  gate  and  narrow  way, 
and  in  primitive  Buddhism  by  the  struggle  of  the  elephant 
to  extricate  itself  from  the  swamp.  For  the  truly  religious 
man  there  is  no  escape  or  dispensation  from  such  efforts, 
except  indeed  in  those  rare  cases  in  which  the  sense  of  Di- 
vine love  and  the  beauty  of  goodness  take  immediate  pos- 
session of  the  soul,  or  in  which  a  new  affection  suddenly 
lights  up  the  heart  with  a  triumphant  joy. 

The  judicial  tendency  of  action  to  intensify  the  spirit 
from  which  it  springs,  and  so  to  perpetuate  itself,  operates 
either  for  good  or  for  evil — a  duplicity  of  operation  which 
holds  true  of  every  law  of  our  nature,  and  every  part  of 
our  constitution.  As  fineness  of  organization  makes  us  at 
once  susceptible  and  vulnerable  at  every  point ;  as  our 
senses  may  be  to  us  the  source  of  exquisite  pleasure  or  of 
exquisite  pain  ;  as  one  and  the  same  organ  makes  us  sensi- 
tive to  harmony  or  to  discord  ;  as  we  can  only  enjoy  a  ben- 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CUBISTIANITY.  15J 

efit  in  one  direction  by  being  exposed  to  the  possibility  of 
injury  in  another ;  as  one  and  the  same  discipline  may  ma- 
ture a  virtue,  or  develop  a  germ  of  vice,  so  the  tendency  of 
the  moral  life  to  perpetuate  itself  operates  for  evil  as  well 
as  for  good.     But  the  tendency  in  either  case  is  relative 
not  absolute  ;  and  it  may  be  noted  as  an  indication  or  pledge 
of  the  ultimate  triumph  of  good  over  evil,  that  this  univer- 
sal and  two-edged  tendency  is  on  the  whole  and  by  pre- 
ponderance beneficent,  inasmuch  as  it  makes  for  good  more 
than  for  evil.     The  empire  of  the  latter,  however  firmly  es- 
tablished, always  runs  the  risk  of  being  overthrown  ;  feel- 
ings of  remorse  and  penitence  may  be  awakened  by  the 
greatness  of  a  crime,  or  by  a  sense  of  inward  desolation, 
and  evoke  an  insurrection  of  the  soul  against  the  sway  of 
evil ;  whereas  it  is  seldom  indeed,  if  ever,  that  a  man  re- 
pents of  what  is  good.     And  hence  the  continuity  of  the 
moral  life,  though  it  may  be  such  as  to  exclude  the  possi- 
bility of  a  lapse  from  virtue  which  has  reached  a  certain 
stage,  does  not  exclude  amendment  and  conversion  from  a 
life  of  sin.     From  the  observation  to  which  we  have  thus 
been  led,  it  would  seem  as  if  there  were  indeed,  in  the  na- 
ture of  what  is  good,  a  substantive  character  which  is  want- 
ing in  what  is  evil  ;  and  as  if  that  were  the  true  theory  of 
the  nature  of  the  latter,  according  to  which  it  is  not  an 
actual  entity  but  a  mere  privation,  or,  as  it  has  been  ex- 
pressed, "  an  undeveloped  good." 

Hence,  too,  it  is  our  belief  that,  though  the  law  of  moral 
sequence  be  of  absolute  validity,  so  that  the  past  can  never 
be  extinguished,  yet  that  evil  as  such  will  gradually  be 
eliminated  from  the  universe.  We  are  fully  alive  to  the 
mystery  which  rests  upon  this  subject :  how  inconceivable 
it  is  that  in  accordance  with  that  law,  and  with  due  respect 
to  the  freedom  of  his  creatures,  God  can  yet  eliminate  evil 
from  their  hearts.  But  we  do  not  believe  that  there  is  any 
sin  absolutely  beyond  forgiveness  ;  that  there  are  "  forms 


152  THE  RENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 

of  evil  so  vital,  that  no  repentance  can  fully  blot  them  out "  ; 
or,  as  it  has  been  otherwise  expressed,  that  there  are  "  acts 
which  may  have  such  irretrievable  effects  on  character  that 
for  them  there  can  be  no  place  for  repentance."  That  many 
acts,  and  many  forms  of  evil,  do  appear  to  men  to  be  thus 
fearfully  irretrievable,  irreversible,  we  acknowledge.  But 
we  rest  here  on  the  words  of  Christ,  that  what  is  impossible 
for  man — impossible  for  man  even  to  conceive — may  be  pos- 
sible for  God,  and  for  the  benignly  transforming  operation 
of  that  Order,  which  is  but  another  name  for  God.  That 
there  are  passages  in  Scripture  which  seem  to  bear  out  such 
a  hopeful  and  cheering  prospect,  it  is  not  necessary  to  say. 
If  for  long  ages  the  Order  may  seem  to  operate  indifferently 
for  evil  or  for  good,  yet  its  preponderating  tendency  in 
favor  of  what  is  good  will  finally  issue  in  the  transforma- 
tion of  what  is  evil. 

The  soul  is  a  scene  of  conflict  between  good  and  evil. 
Explain  it  psychologically  as  we  may,  it  is  a  fact  of  daily 
experience  that  the  soul  may  struggle  with  itself  ;  the 
higher  with  the  lower  nature.  The  animal  and  selfish  pro- 
pensities, which  have  sole  possession  of  the  child,  are  not 
evil  in  themselves,  but  only  become  evil  when  they  retain 
the  upi^er  hand  in  spite  of  reason  and  conscience,  and  ob- 
struct the  rule  and  growth  of  the  higher  nature,  of  that 
spiritual  principle  which,  deposited  in  the  soul  as  a  seed,  is, 
by  inherent  right  and  destination,  the  governing  and  con- 
trolling power  over  the  whole  man.  In  proportion  as  we 
live  in  subjection  to  our  lower  impulses,  we  sow  to  the  flesh  ; 
in  proportion  as  we  obey  the  higher  impulses  of  our  nature, 
we  sow  to  the  spirit.  According  to  the  ajDOstle,  we  may  do 
either  ;  and  there  is  probably  no  man  so  much  a  slave  to 
carnal  and  egotistical  principles  but  oftentimes  acts  in  def- 
erence to  the  higher  and  better  principle.  The  more  a  man 
so  acts,  the  more  does  he  invigorate  that  principle,  keeping 
it  at  least  from  utter  torpor.    The  more,  again,  he  obeys  the 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CHEISTIANITY.  153 

motions  of  his  fleshly  nature,  the  more  does  he  strengthen 
its  hold  and  confirm  its  dominion  ;  and  all  this  happens 
according  to  that  moral  order  in  which  Divine  judgment 
executes  itself. 

When  evil  habits  have  once  been  confirmed,  these  can 
be  overcome  seldom  or  never  by  the  call  of  duty,  or  by  a 
sense  of  moral  obligation,  but  by  the  power  of  some  new 
hope,  some  new  interest  or  affection,  and,  most  of  all,  by 
the  power  of  that  affection  which  is  called  forth  by  the 
revelation  of  Divine  grace.  The  revelation  to  our  mind  of 
the  paternal  character  of  God,  and  of  the  gracious  relation 
in  which  He  stands  to  us,  produces  a  complete  revolution  in 
our  feelings  and  relations  toward  Him,  and  thereby  elevates 
us  to  a  higher  level  of  the  religious  life.  Before  that  reve- 
lation is  made  to  us,  our  religion  consists  in  the  effort  to 
propitiate  God,  and  to  deserve  his  favor,  a  task  we  all  feel 
to  be  of  impossible  achievement.  But  thenceforth  our  en- 
deavor is  not  to  merit  or  deserve,  but  to  show  ourselves 
sensible  and  worthy  of  the  unmerited,  priceless,  and  unal- 
terable favor  and  good-will  with  which  He  regards  us — a 
distinction  of  immense  practical  significance.  In  the  for- 
mer case,  we  are  actuated  by  fear  and  other  mercenary  dis- 
positions, the  very  consciousness  of  which  is  enough  to  lame 
and  frustrate  our  efforts  ;  in  the  other,  we  are  stirred  by 
gratitude,  and  all  the  higher  impulses  of  which  our  nature 
is  susceptible. 

The  problem  of  human  life — the  task  appointed  to  us — 
is  our  deliverance  from  the  sway  of  our  lower  nature,  our 
surrender  to  the  control  of  our  higher  nature.  The  powers 
by  which  we  are  enabled  to  accomplish  this  task  are  three  : 
First.  Our  own  higher  nature  itself,  which  is  never  wholly 
effaced,  and  which  reacts  against  the  evil,  and  makes  us 
receptive  of  all  the  higher  influences  that  may  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  us  from  without.  Secondly.  The  complex  of 
all  these  higher  influences — the  beneficent  constitution  of 


154  THE  BENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 

tilings  in  general,  their  tendency  in  favor  of  what  is  good, 
which  operates  upon  us  more  or  less,  even  when  we  are  un- 
conscious of  it.  We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  this  tendency 
operates  in  spite  of  us,  or  that  it  approaches  its  aim  or  pur- 
pose independently  of  us.  A  philosopher  or  man  of  science 
may  feel  himself  at  liberty  to  hold  such  a  view,  but  the 
teacher  of  religion  can  not.  For,  were  this  the  case,  as 
extreme  evolutionists  would  have  us  believe,  it  would  be 
equivalent  to  the  death  or  extinction  of  all  religion,  and 
obliterate  that  which  constitutes  the  highest  distinction  of 
the  rational  creature  ;  that  relative  freedom  of  will  by 
which  he  is,  like  God,  though  in  an  inferior  degree,  sui 
causa,  the  maker  of  himself.  That  "  man  is  man  and  mas- 
ter of  his  fate "  is  the  witness  of  the  inmost  consciousness. 
He  is  man  because  he  is  master  of  his  fate,  and  not  the  abso- 
lute thrall  or  slave  of  circumstance  ;  and  it  has  been  shown 
over  and  over  again  that  to  set  this  witness  aside  Avould 
end  by  landing  us  in  infinite  absurdities,  or  in  universal 
skepticism.  To  this  witness,  therefore,  we  must  hold  fast, 
in  spite  of  all  ratiocination  to  the  contrary,  however  unan- 
swerable it  may  seem.  It  is  matter  of  wide  experience  that 
one  and  the  same  discipline  may,  as  we  have  already  re- 
marked, foster  virtue,  or  develop  the  germs  of  vice  in  us. 
But  which  of  the  two  it  shall  be,  must  depend  more  or  less 
upon  the  rational  subject  giving  himself  up  to  the  influence 
for  good  or  the  influence  for  evil,  even  though  he  may  have 
no  distinct  apprehension  or  consciousness  of  the  existence 
or  nature  either  of  the  one  or  the  other.  A  man  may  not 
be  conscious  of  the  several  influences,  good  or  evil,  by  which 
he  is  surrounded  ;  and  yet  it  is  by  acts  of  volition,  however 
obscure,  that  he  surrenders  himself  to  this  class  rather  than 
to  that. 

With  this  explanation,  we  say  that  the  tendency  of  hu- 
man relations  in  favor  of  what  is  good,  so  far  as  it  exists  in 
excess  of  the  opposite  tendency,  being  impressed  by  God 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  I55 

on  the  creation,  is  an  evidence  of  his  design  to  secure  the 
triumph  of  Avhat  is  good,  and  to  deliver  us  from  evil.  After 
being  hidden  from  human  vision  for  long  ages,  or  only  par- 
tially surmised  by  other  teachers,  this  design  was  at  length 
brought  fully  to  light,  and  presented  to  our  faith  by  the 
founder  of  Christianity.  In  consequence  of  this  tendency, 
it  might  be  said  in  all  ages  that  "  God  meeteth  him  that 
rejoiceth  and  worketh  righteousness  ;  those  that  remember 
him  in  his  ways "  ;  and  it  is  not  fanciful  to  suppose  that 
their  insight  into  this  tendency  was  what  encouraged  the 
great  religious  teachers  of  ancient  times,  and  preeminently 
Christ,  to  believe  and  proclaim  the  paternal  character  of 
God  ;  and  from  the  vantage-ground  of  this  new  idea  to  dis- 
cern more  clearly  than  ever  that  all  things  work  together 
for  the  ultimate  good  of  man.  That  tendency  is  the  out- 
ward revelation  which  offers  itself  to  the  interpreting  power 
of  the  pure  in  heart  ;  and  these  two  factors,  the  outward 
and  the  inward,  explain  to  us  the  otherwise  inexplicable 
nature  of  that  Divine  instinct  by  which  humanity  rose  at 
length  in  Christ  to  the  thought  of  God's  absolute  goodness  ; 
while  the  necessity  that  exists  for  the  latter  factor  cooper- 
ating with  the  former,  in  order  to  the  perception  of  that 
truth,  may  explain  to  us  how  the  hold  of  it  on  the  part  of 
mankind  is  even  yet  so  slender,  precarious,  and  uncertain. 

Thirdly.  These  two  factors  for  the  accomplishment  of 
the  Divine  purpose  are  consummated,  or  brought  into  full 
operation,  by  the  revelation  to  our  consciousness  of  that 
which  was  implicitly  contained  in  them,  but  of  which  we 
had  otherwise  remained  unconscious  ;  by  that  revelation, 
we  mean,  of  the  Divine  good-will,  or  paternal  relation  to- 
ward us,  by  which  Christ  has  reenforced  our  better  nature, 
enabling  us  to  be  intelligent  fellow-workers  with  God  in 
our  conflict  with  evil,  and  giving  a  higher  aim  to  our  life. 
The  deeper  insight  which  Christ  has  thus  given  us  into  the 
character  and  purposes  of  God  has  advanced  us  to  a  higher 


156  '^HE  RENOVATING  POWER  [sermok  x. 

level  of  religious  development.  For  it  is  the  view  which  a 
man  takes  of  God,  and  of  the  world,  and  of  the  relation  in 
which  he  stands  to  both,  which,  upon  the  whole,  detei-mines 
his  life  and  actions  ;  and  if  he  believes,  no  matter  how  he 
comes  by  the  belief,  that  God  loves  him  and  designs  to 
further  the  triumph  and  dominion  of  the  higher  nature  im- 
planted in  him,  this  conviction  is  the  very  highest  that  can 
be  given  him  to  reenforce  his  efforts  in  that  conflict  with 
his  lower  nature.  It  is  through  the  apprehension  of  the 
grace  of  God  by  that  higher  reason  which  is  faith,  that 
grace  becomes  operative  in  us  ;  so  that  not  only  our  service 
of  God  (Rom.  xii,  1),  but  the  action,  at  its  highest,  of  the 
Divine  mind  upon  our  minds  is  "  rational,"  as  being  ex- 
erted through  our  rational  nature.  It  is,  we  say,  through 
our  reason,  through  our  conviction  that  God  wills  the  tri- 
umph of  our  better  nature,  that  we  are  animated  to  a  tri- 
umphant forth-putting  of  its  latent  energies.  All  this  may 
be  brought  to  the  test  of  experience.  Let  any  man  lean 
upon  this  thought  and  see  what  will  be  the  effect  of  it ; 
whether  it  will  not  make  of  him  what  the  apostle  calls  a 
new  creature  ;  whether  it  will  not  suffice  to  advance  him 
to  fellowship  with  God,  to  extricate  him  from  the  dubious 
struggle  with  his  lower  nature,  and  in  a  manner  to  raise  him 
above  himself. 

In  passing,  we  may  remark  that  unless  a  man  be  pos- 
sessed by  this  consciousness — and  unless  the  consciousness 
stands  in  some  historical  connection  with  the  impulse  given 
by  Christianity,  he  can  scarcely  be  called  a  Christian — but 
he  may  yet  be  a  pious  and  religious  man,  accepted  of  God. 
The  life  of  God  in  such  a  man  may  be  developed  by  the 
second  of  the  factors  enumerated,  that  is,  by  means  of  the 
discipline  supplied  through  the  Divine  order,  in  the  midst 
of  which  he  stands,  and  to  the  influence  of  which  he  un- 
consciously yields.  Such,  no  doubt,  is  the  case  with  many 
in  heathen  lands,  and  with  many  also  in  Christian  lands, 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CHRISTIAmTY.  I57 

whose  minds  are  closed  against  the  direct  teachings  of  the 
gospel. 

To  correspond  with  what  has  now  been  said,  the  gospel 
can  only  be  regarded  as  a  revelation  or  discovery  to  man  of 
a  method  of  salvation  which  had  always  been  possible  in 
the  nature  of  things,  though,  it  may  be,  hid  from  the  be- 
ginning, potentially  though  not  actually  in  operation  from 
the  first.  It  is  the  discovery  of  that  sole  and  only  possible 
method  of  salvation  which  is  determined  by  the  nature  of 
man  and  of  him  in  whose  image  man  was  created  ;  not  an 
arbitrary  "  divine  contrivance  "  as  it  is  sometimes  popularly 
called ;  nor  an  invention  of  something  absolutely  new. 
Some  minds  seem  to  be  so  constituted  as  to  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  accepting  the  idea  of  such  a  divine  contrivance, 
while  to  others  such  an  idea  is  wholly  inconceivable.  The 
Catholic  Apostolic  Church,  one  of  the  most  recent  of  the 
sects,  and  one  which  owed  its  origin  to  men  of  apparently 
high  culture  and  of  liberal  education,  is  said  by  a  seemingly 
well-informed  writer  to  be  founded  on  the  idea  that,  after 
the  death  of  the  original  apostles,  and  owing  to  the  want  of 
faith  in  the  Church,  God  changed  his  original  plan  and  pur- 
pose ;  and  that,  after  eighteen  centuries  of  abeyance,  He 
has  made  a  new  revelation  and  given  a  new  organization  to 
his  Church.  The  idea,  thus  perhaps  somewhat  brusquely 
stated,  is  so  manifestly  extravagant,  that  we  have  some 
doubt  whether  it  will  be  accepted  by  the  Catholic  Apostolic 
Church  itself  as  a  fair  or  accurate  representation  of  its 
principles.  But  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  idea,  if  it 
be  really  entertained,  is,  at  bottom,  a  mere  exaggeration  of 
that  on  which  popular  Christianity  rests.  Popularly,  and 
even  theologically,  Christianity  is  regarded  as  a  late  con- 
trivance ;  as  the  disclosure  of  a  "  second  intention  "  in  God's 
government  of  the  world  ;  as  a  contrivance  which  was  con- 
ditioned and  brought  late  into  action  by  means  of  unique 
and  altogether  exceptional  events  in  the  history  of  man. 


158  THE  RENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 

If  we  keep  in  view  that  law  which  has  engaged  our  at- 
tention, it  will  be  distinctly  apparent  that  the  gospel  can 
be  a  means  of  supplanting  evil  by  good,  only  by  discover- 
ing and  evoking  powers  which  had  always  existed,  though 
it  may  be  latently,  in  man's  nature.  The  gospel  deserves 
its  name  simply  because  it  teaches  and  persuades  us  to 
cease  from  evil  and  to  do  well ;  to  change  the  seed  which 
we  sow,  and  thus  to  obtain  a  better  harvest.  It  affords  to 
us  helps  and  encouragements  to  repent  of  the  evil  we  have 
done,  and  to  enter  upon  a  new  course  of  life.  It  appeals  to 
that  aspiration  toward  what  is  good,  which,  according  to 
St.  Paul  (Rom.  vii),  is  never  quite  extinct  in  any  soul  of 
man  ;  while  it  reiinforces  that  aspiration  by  announcing 
that  the  Divine  complacency  in  our  endeavors  to  do  well  is 
none  the  less  because  of  the  evil  that  is  past,  and  that  there 
is  joy  in  heaven  over  the  returning  penitent.  It  pi'oclaims 
foi'giveness  for  all  past  failures,  and  so  clears  the  way  for 
the  daily  renewal  of  our  lives.  The  power  of  a  new  life 
resides  in  the  conviction  that  the  past  has  no  claim  upon 
us  ;  that  no  objective  atonement  is  necessary  ;  that  all  we 
have  to  do  is  to  shake  ourselves  free  from  the  evil  that 
cleaves  to  us  ;  and  that  the  obstacle  to  our  deliverance  lies 
A\  holly  in  ourselves  and  not  in  God.  By  his  death  on  the 
cross,  Christ  may  be  said,  in  a  figurative  sense  indeed,  to 
have  expiated  our  sins,  or  to  have  purchased  their  remis- 
sion ;  it  being  important  to  observe  that  the  figures  vary. 
But  what  He  did,  in  the  strict  and  literal  sense,  Avas  to 
reveal  to  us  the  infinite  placability  of  the  Divine  nature. 
The  faith  which  He  thus  kindles  in  the  hearts  of  men  pro- 
duces no  change  in  God's  relation  or  intentions  toward  us, 
but  is  only  the  recognition  and  apprehension  of  a  relation 
always  existing.  Yet  so  surprising  to  those  on  whom  it 
first  dawned  was  this  revelation,  and  so  transforming  in  its 
effects  ever  since  on  human  hopes  and  character,  that  in 
every  age  men  have  been  constrained  to  give  expression  to 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CnEISTlANITY.  I59 

that  of  which  they  were  conscious,  by  speaking  of  the  great 
event  as  not  merely  a  manifestation  of  the  changeless  love 
of  God,  but  as  the  efficient  cause  of  an  utter  revolution  in 
God's  relations  to  man. 

The  forgiveness  of  sins  was  no  absolute'y  new  doctrine, 
though  it  was  uttered  with  new  emphasis  by  him  who,  at 
the  same  time,  elevated  the  standard  of  human  duty  by  his 
teaching  and  by  his  example  in  life  and  death,  and  thus 
became  the  founder  of  our  faith.  The  faith  or  hope  of 
Divine  forgiveness  for  faults  committed  must  have  been 
implicitly  contained  in  the  prayers  and  sacrifices  of  every 
religion  in  which  the  ethical  element  was  in  any  measure 
developed.  Without  some  faith  or  hope  of  this  kind,  such 
religion  would  have  been  impossible,  or  been  but  another 
name  for  despair.  The  prayer  for  forgiveness  was  in  fact 
heard  in  all  religions,  though  but  seldom  did  it  ascend  any- 
where in  the  confidence  of  a  favorable  answer.  Probably 
in  Israel  did  men  first  rise  with  any  distinctness  to  this 
faith,  for  there  it  was  that  a  clear  and  simple  conception  of 
a  moral  law  first  prevailed.  The  idea  of  a  righteous  judg- 
ment involved  in  such  a  law  left  no  escape  from  despair, 
except  by  way  of  the  idea  of  a  free  and  complete  remission 
of  sins,  or  of  that  Divine  grace  which  could  not  but  reveal 
itself  to  man,  when  he  discovered  the  "  weakness  of  the  law," 
that  is,  its  unfitness  to  become  a  power  unto  salvation.  Of 
this  evangelical  idea,  therefore,  we  find  traces  everywhere 
in  the  Old  Testament,  and  notably  in  the  Psalms  and  in  the 
Books  of  Jonah  and  Ezekiel.  To  take  but  one  example, 
Ezekiel  represents  the  people  as  asking,  "  If  our  transgres- 
sions be  upon  us,  and  we  pine  away  in  them,  how  should 
we  then  live  ?  "  which  is  just  as  much  as  to  ask.  If  we  have 
sown  the  evil,  how  can  we  reap  the  good  ?  To  men  in  this 
desponding  state  of  mind,  God  bids  the  pro])het  say  :  "  As  I 
live,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked  ;  but 
that  the  wicked  turn  from  his  way  and  live  :  turn  ye,  turn 


160  THE  RENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 

ye  from  your  evil  ways  ;  for  why  will  ye  die,  0  house  of 
Israel  ?  "  That  is  to  say,  Ye  can  escape  death  only  by  turn- 
ing from  it ;  by  forsaking  the  way  that  leads  to  it :  ye  can 
escape  the  harvest  of  evil  only  by  sowing  the  seed  of  a  good 
harvest.  And  then  follows  the  encouragement  which  men 
have  to  apply  to  this  work  :  "  Therefore  say  unto  the  chil- 
dren of  thy  people.  The  wicked  shall  not  fall  by  his  wicked- 
ness in  the  day  that  he  turneth  from  his  wickedness  ;  neither 
shall  the  righteous  be  able  to  live  by  his  righteousness  in 
the  day  that  he  sinneth.  When  I  say  to  the  wicked.  Thou 
shalt  surely  die,"  that  is.  Thou  shalt  reap  the  evil  thou  hast 
sown,  "  yet  if  he  turn  from  his  sin,  and  do  that  which  is 
lawful  and  right,  he  shall  surely  live  and  not  die.  None  of 
his  sins  that  he  hath  committed  shall  be  mentioned  to  him." 
These  utterances  of  one  of  the  great  proj^hets  of  Israel  were 
the  result  of  that  deep  religious  insight  which  had  been 
gained  through  centuries  of  experience  by  a  succession  of 
the  highest  minds  of  the  nation  :  of  an  insight  which  pos- 
sessed the  few,  but  was  not  possessed  even  by  them  except 
with  difficiilty  and  in  moments  of  rare  illumination.  Christ, 
on  the  other  hand,  a  greater  than  all  the  prophets,  seems  to 
have  enjoyed  this  insight  from  the  first  ;  and,  being  in  full 
possession  of  it.  He  laid  it,  supremely  confident,  as  the  foun- 
dation and  corner-stone  of  religion  for  all  time  and  for  all 
peoples  ;  and  so  ushered  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  "  not  by 
changing  the  will  of  God,  but  simply  by  revealing  it 
to  us,"  Just  as,  in  other  fields  of  thought  and  action, 
every  advance  made  by  humanity  has  been  effected  not 
by  any  change  in  the  Divine  order,  but  by  the  discov- 
ery of  laws  which  have  always  been  in  existence,  by  the 
reception  of  these  laws  into  the  circle  of  human  thought, 
and  by  an  adjustment  to  them  of  human  life  and  con- 
duct ;  so  has  it  been  also  in  the  field  of  religion,  and  in 
respect  especially  of  the  great  advance  first  from  nature- 
religion  to  the  religion  of  law,  and  then  from  the  religion 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CIIEISTIANITY.  161 

of  law  to  the  religion  of  grace,  as  we  now  have  it  in 
Christianity. 

The  object  of  most  of  our  Lord's  teaching  was  to  show 
the  way  by  which  evil  might  be  made  to  give  place  to  good 
in  men's  lives,  and  to  encourage  those  who  were  reaping  the 
harvest  of  sin  to  begin  to  sow  the  seed  which  might  ripen 
into  a  better  harvest.  He  taught  men  as  plainly  as  could 
be,  that  no  time  was  too  late  for  repentance,  and  no  sin  too 
great  to  be  forgiven  ;  that  though  the  evil  they  had  done 
would  certainly  bear  its  fruit  in  the  difficulties  which  are 
thereby  laid  in  the  way  of  return  to  a  better  life,  yet  that 
the  heavenly  Father  was  ever  ready  to  receive  the  sinner 
into  his  fellowship  ;  and  that  the  confidence  of  a  final  tri- 
umph might  spring  uj)  in  the  felt  presence  of  indwelling 
sin,  from  the  conviction  that  God's  will  is  our  salvation. 
He  sought  to  train  all  about  him  to  seek  the  true  good  as 
an  end,  and  to  practice  it  as  a  means  of  greater  and  of 
growing  good,  and  thus  to  proceed  from  less  to  more  under 
the  eye  of  him  who  despises  not  the  day  of  small  things. 

As  we  ascribe  such  a  transforming  power  to  the  forgive- 
ness of  sin,  let  it  be  clearly  understood  what  we  mean  by 
that  word.  "We  do  not  thereby  designate  an  act  of  God's 
sovereign  pleasure,  but  only  an  act  of  that  supreme  good- 
ness which  is  the  universal  character  of  his  government  of 
the  world.  His  power  to  forgive  is  a  power  which  resides 
in  his  love.  When  we  say  that  He  alone  is  able  to  forgive 
sins,  we  do  not  mean  to  claim  for  him  a  dispensing  power, 
or  a  prerogative  to  extinguish  sin,  to  annihilate  its  effects, 
and  to  break  the  continuity  of  the  moral  order  by  an  al- 
mighty sentence.  For  God  to  vie  in  this  respect  with  the 
prerogative  claimed  by  his  earthly  vicegerent  is,  to  our  way 
of  thinking,  as  impossible  as  it  would  be  to  subvert  an  arith- 
metical proportion  or  a  geometrical  law.  But  what  we 
mean  is,  that  God  alone  has  the  heart  to  forgive,  which  man 
has  not.     Man  is  not  able  to  forgive,  because  he  is  unlov- 


162  THE  RENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x, 

ing  and  vindictive.  But  God  is  able,  because  He  is  love. 
Though  infinitely  higher  in  degree,  yet  God's  forgiveness 
is  the  same  in  kind  as  that  of  an  earthly  parent.  He  loves, 
nay,  forgives  the  sinner,  even  while  He  leaves  him  to  bear 
the  punishment  of  his  sins.  "  Thou,"  says  the  Psalmist, 
"  forgavest  their  iniquities,  but  thou  tookest  vengeance  of 
their  inventions."  Even  in  punishing,  God  forgave  the 
Israelites.  He  punished  because  he  forgave.  The  Divine 
end  was  the  same  in  both  :  namely,  their  repentance.  God 
seeks  man's  salvation  even  by  the  operation  of  the  law  of 
recompense,  and  welcomes  the  first  faint  symptom  of  re- 
pentance. And  sin  is  effaced  by  means  of  an  inner  process, 
of  which  the  motive  power  is  the  perception  of  Divine  love 
acting  on  the  spiritual  nature  of  the  percipient. 

In  accordance  with  these  views,  we  define  forgiveness  to 
be  the  persistence  of  Divine  love  in  spite  of  our  sins.  But 
it  would  be  illogical  to  infer  from  this  definition  that  our 
sins  have  no  efi^ect  on  God's  relation  to  us  ;  that  He  is 
indifferent  to  our  sins  ;  or  that  "  the  deep  laAV  of  resent- 
ment, as  modern  sentimentalism  would  have  it,  is  expunged 
from  the  Christian  code."  God  aims,  through  his  moral 
order,  unremittingly,  unswervingly,  at  the  removal  of  our 
sins,  and  at  the  remedy  of  the  evils  caused  by  them.  This 
aim  He  pursues,  not  with  anthropomorphic  and  relenting 
fondness,  but  with  that  inflexible  persistence  which  is  es- 
sential to  the  nature  of  the  Divine  order,  and  which,  be- 
cause it  is  inexorable,  may,  to  reluctant  man,  seem  even  to 
be  pitiless.  The  same  merciful  discipline — the  same  pur- 
})ose  of  leading  men  to  repentance — runs  through  the  sever- 
ity and  the  goodness  of  God,  but  none  the  less  on  that 
account  is  his  severity  felt  to  be  real.  By  the  operation  of 
the  law  of  continuity,  in  which  Divine  love,  so  to  speak, 
disguises  itself,  sin  becomes  more  and  more  intolerable,  and 
the  soul  makes  ineffectual  efforts  to  throw  off  the  sin  which 
oppresses  it.     A  revelation,  therefore,  of   Divine  grace  is 


MACKiKTosH.]  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  163 

needed  to  encourage  the  hope  of  deliverance  and  to  give 
new  vigor  to  repentance.  We  obtain  strength  for  true 
amendment,  by  accepting  that  forgiveness,  which  God,  as 
made  known  to  us  by  Christ,  is  always  extending  to  us,  and 
by  our  confidence  in  his  sympathy  with  our  efforts  to  break 
the  dominion  of  sin.  The  reactive  power  of  our  higher 
nature,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken,  is  stimulated  into 
energetic  action  by  our  belief  in  Divine  sympathy.  It  is 
only  through  the  apprehension  of  that  sympathy,  through 
that  intercourse  with  God  which  is  thus  made  possible, 
through  the  conviction  that  the  Supreme  is  on  the  side  of 
the  insurgent  good,  and  rejoices  in  its  triumph,  that  we  may 
mount  to  higher  and  ever  higher  stages  of  the  moral  and 
spiritual  life.  The  more  common  virtues,  social  or  civil, 
may  be  practiced  without  such  confidence.  But  the  higher 
ideal  of  Christianity  can  be  set  up  as  an  aim  by  those  only 
who  believe  in  the  persistency  of  Divine  love  ;  in  the  fact 
that  God's  forgiveness  is  ever  at  the  door,  ready  for  their 
acceptance,  so  that,  with  his  entire  concurrence  and  good- 
will, they  may  begin  anew,  and  start  afresh  after  every 
failure.  In  the  apprehension  of  that  fact  resides  the  power 
of  an  endless  growth. 

Even  while  the  soul  is  dead  in  trespasses,  given  up  to 
the  practice  of  sin,  God  is  still  placable — in  the  language 
of  Scripture,  He  waits  to  be  gracious  ;  but  his  grace  is  in 
abeyance,  or  at  least  appears  to  be  so  :  and,  even  when  the 
soul  struggles  to  turn  from  its  sin,  without  having  yet  risen 
to  the  idea  of  Divine  love,  that  grace  remains  inoj>erative  ; 
inasmuch  as  it  is  only  through  faith  and  the  apprehension 
of  Divine  grace  by  means  of  it,  that,  in  accordance  with 
the  laws  of  our  rational  nature,  grace  can  become  fully 
operative  in  us.  When  the  soul  yearns  for  deliverance 
from  evil,  the  only  barrier  to  the  satisfaction  of  its  yearn- 
ings lies  in  its  ignorance  of  Divine  grace.  There  need  be 
no  element  of  uncertainty  as  to  the  forgiveness  of  its  sins. 


164  THE  RENOVATING  POWER  [sermon  x. 

For  no  special  acts  of  pardon  need  to  be  passed,  any  more 
than,  as  we  formerly  remarked,  there  need  to  be  special 
acts  of  judgment.  All  happens  according  to  the  operation 
of  unvarying  law  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  To  say 
so  is  almost  a  truism,  when  we  admit,  what  is  indeed  the 
case,  that  Divine  forgiveness  is  only  a  form  of  Divine  judg- 
ment. The  sovereignty  with  which  God  dispenses  forgive- 
ness is  just  the  sovereignty  of  law.  The  idea  of  a  sovereign, 
in  the  sense  of  an  arbitrary  dispensation  of  forgiveness  as 
of  judgment,  is  altogether  excluded  :  and  there  is  no  third 
form  of  its  dispensation.  The  specific  consciousness  of  the 
Christian  is  given  expression  to  by  St.  Paul,  when  he  says 
that  we  are  not  under  law  but  under  grace  ;  but  the  law  of 
which  this  is  said  is  law  in  the  special  sense  of  the  word — 
as  an  external  commandment  which  condemns  the  sinner — 
in  which  sense  it  is  opposed  to  grace  :  whereas  law,  in  the 
more  general  acceptation  of  the  word,  as  but  another  name 
for  an  immovable  order,  must  regulate  the  grace  of  God 
itself.  To  think  otherwise,  one  must  have  a  strangely 
childish  notion  of  the  Divine  infinitude. 

In  opposition  to  the  view  of  Divine  forgiveness  here  ad- 
vanced, it  may  be  said  that  evil  once  done  not  only  tends 
to  reproduce  evil  in  the  doer,  but  also  calls  forth  the  repro- 
bation of  the  Judge  ;  and  therefore,  as  the  consequences 
of  our  deeds  can  not  be  evaded,  this  reprobation,  as  one  of 
these,  ought  to  remain  :  in  other  words,  that  our  sins  do  not 
admit  of  Divine  forgiveness.  But,  in  answer  to  this  objec- 
tion, we  reply  that  the  forgiveness  of  the  sinner  is  quite 
compatible  with  the  reprobation  of  his  sin.  The  reproba- 
tion which  is  merited  by  our  sins  remains  in  their  very  ten- 
dency to  reproduce  themselves  :  it  is  reflected  in  the  terrible 
self-dissatisfaction  of  the  sinner  himself  :  in  the  pressure 
which  they  increasingly  put  upon  the  soul,  and  in  the  bar- 
rier which  they  raise  to  his  repentance.  These  are  the 
strongest  proofs  of  the  Divine  disapprobation  :  the  penalty 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CUUmTIANITY.  165 

which  we  pay  for  our  indulgence  in  sin  ;  which  the  drunk- 
ard, for  example,  feels  weighing  upon  him  to  his  infinite 
distress,  when  he  struggles,  too  often  in  vain,  to  be  temper- 
ate. In  the  hardness  of  that  struggle,  the  sinner  may  be 
said,  figurativehj,  to  expiate  his  sin  and  to  endure  its  pen- 
alty ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  is  strengthened  for  that 
endurance,  by  his  faith  in  the  goodness  with  which  God 
sympathizes  with  him  in  his  struggle  to  escape  those  very 
toils  with  which  He  has  beset  the  path  of  sin,  to  make  it 

painful. 

To  meet  the  hardships  connected  with  a  course  of  amend- 
ment, we  need  a  great  encouragement  ;  and  that  encour- 
agement we  derive  from  the  knowledge  that  God  is  in 
alliance  with  our  better  nature,  that  He  wills  our  deliver- 
ance from  evil.     But  how  do  we  obtain  such  a  knowledge  ? 
The  tendency  of  sin  to  beget  new  sin  is  a  law  of  Divine 
appointment,  and  might  seem  to  prove  that  it  is  God's  de- 
sign to  hold  us  to  the  sin  we  have  committed,  and  to  pun- 
ish it  by  riveting  it  upon  our  souls.     But  then  this  law  is 
only  the  reverse,  or  negative,  of  that  propitious  law  by 
which  good  action  tends  to  become  habitual.     We  can  not 
separate  even  in  idea  the  one  from  the  other.    Here,  as  else- 
where, it  is,  as  we  have  already  said,  one  and  the  same  law 
which  works  both  good  and  evil  in  our  lives.     It  is  one  and 
the  same  organ  which  makes  us  susceptible  both  of  pain 
and  pleasure  ;  and  so  the  same  Divine  constitution  of  our 
nature,  which  is  intended  for  the  furtherance  of  our  spirit- 
ual life,  may  also  minister  to  its  hindrance.     It  is  the  same 
moral  order  which  encompasses,  sustains,  and  controls  men 
however  they  may  act,  whether  well  or  ill ;  and  it  has  been 
justly  said  that  man  is  no  more  independent  of  God  and  of 
his  order,  when  he  transgresses,  than  when  he  obeys  the 
Divine  will.     The  operation  of  this  law,  in  the  case  of  the 
sinner,  is  sooner  or  later  to  make  sin  intolerable,  and  to 
awaken  in  him  the  desire  for  deliverance  from  its  burden. 


lOG  THE  HENOVATING  POWER  [sermok  x. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  being  a  proof  of  God's  will  to  hold 
the  sinner  to  his  sin,  and  to  hinder  his  repentance,  it  is 
rather  a  proof  that  God  is  on  the  side  of  his  efforts  to 
escape  the  bondage  of  sin  ;  a  view  of  God's  relation  to  the 
sinner  which  expresses  itself  in  the  doctrine  of  forgiveness  ; 
and  which,  when  apprehended,  oftentimes  fills  the  sinner 
with  joy,  and  becomes  the  pledge  and  instrument  of  his 
victory  over  sin — the  motive  power  of  a  true  and  thorough 
repentance. 

Nothing  is  more  conspicuous  in  Christ's  teaching  than 
the  confidence  which  He  places  in  man's  ability  to  choose 
the  better  part,  however  degraded  he  may  be,  however  far 
he  may  have  strayed.  Christ's  faith  in  God  was  also,  it  is 
evident,  a  faith  in  man.  None  knew  better  than  He  how 
hard  it  is  for  a  man  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  in  other 
words,  to  grow  strong  in  his  weakness  ;  as  we  may  see  from 
what  He  said  of  the  camel  passing  through  the  needle's 
eye.  But  none  the  less  unhesitatingly,  none  the  less  author- 
itatively, did  He  enjoin  men  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
God,  to  keep  the  commandments,  to  take  up  the  cross.  One 
who  was  steeped  in  sin,  He  enjoins  to  go  and  sin  no  more. 
He  credits  even  the  most  depraved  with  some  spiritual 
power  ;  with  some  capacity  for  goodness,  however  weak- 
ened it  may  be,  through  long  disuse,  torpor,  and  self-indul- 
gence. He  believes  in  a  spiritual  force  in  men,  latent  it 
may  be,  yet  powerful  enough  to  raise  them  above  them- 
selves, and  all  the  help  they  need,  or  can  possibly  obtain,  is 
to  be  encouraged  to  exert  that  power  ;  and  this  encourage- 
ment He  places  before  them  partly  in  his  own  example,  and 
partly  in  the  assurance  which  He  conveys  to  our  souls  that 
the  forgiveness  of  sins  may  be  confidently  laid  hold  of  by 
all  who  desire  encouragement  in  the  endeavor  to  forsake 
them.  For  others — that  is,  for  those  who  live  without  as- 
piration, who  only  wish  to  obtain  a  discharge  from  the  con- 
sequences of  their  sins — forgiveness,  we  need  not  say,  is  a 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  167 

mere  nonentity,  if  it  be  not  a  snare.  '  It  may  lull  the  con- 
science into  a  false  security,  but  it  can  have  no  effect  what- 
ever in  releasing  such  persons  from  the  deadliest  conse- 
quence of  their  sins,  the  tyrannous  presence  of  sin  itself 
in  the  soul.  What  Christ's  teaching  amounts  to  is  :  that 
nothing  stands  in  the  way  of  those  who  desire  to  break  off 
their  sins  by  righteousness,  except  the  outward  and  inward 
opposition,  which  has  been  arrayed  by  the  law  of  recom- 
pense against  their  better  endeavors.  And  that  law,  which 
has  seemed  hitherto  to  operate  against  them,  will  begin  to 
operate  in  favor  of  those  who  honestly  seek  to  grow  in 
righteousness.  After  the  remarks  already  made  on  the  sub- 
ject, we  do  not  need  to  say  now  whether  there  be  such  a 
thing  as  expiation  for  past  sins,  in  the  sense  of  an  objective 
atonement.  But  this  at  least  it  is  desirable  to  say,  that  we 
can,  in  none  but  a  highly  figurative  sense,  apply  the  term 
"  expiation  "  to  that  amendment,  however  painful  and  labori- 
ous, of  which  our  faith  in  the  Divine  good-will  is  the  motive 
power.  To  make  such  an  application  of  the  term  (as  some 
theologians  seem  inclined  to  do)  is  to  infringe  upon  the 
great  evangelical  idea  of  the  freeness  of  the  grace  of  God  ; 
to  throw  us  back  into  the  religion  of  law,  and  to  bring  us 
once  more  under  the  dominion  of  the  servile  spirit. 

The  beginnings  of  good  which  we  are  encouraged  to 
make  in  the  midst  of  evil  are  necessarily  small  and  con- 
temptible in  all  eyes  but  his  who  accepts  the  first  faint  in- 
dications of  the  better  will.  But  it  is  none  the  less  true 
that  good  may  thus  spring  up,  and  that  the  evil  which  is 
not  fed  at  length  ceases  from  remembrance.  And  though 
what  we  reap  is  the  same  in  kind  as  we  sow,  yet  what  we 
reap  is  more  than  what  we  sow.  For  it  is  of  the  very 
nature  of  seed  of  every  kind  to  yield  increase,  to  return 
more  than  itself  ;  so  tliat,  under  favoring  circumstances  of 
soil  and  climate,  it  may  produce  a  hundred-fold.  Just  so, 
under  the  beneficent  scheme  of  providence  revealed  in  the 


168  THE  RENOVATING  POWER  [seemon  x. 

gospel,  the  good  which  a  man  does  may  yield  a  hundred- 
fold into  his  own  bosom.  All  things  work  together  for 
good  to  him  who  takes  courage  and  sets  himself  in  single- 
ness and  simplicity  of  heart  to  do  the  will  of  God. 

We  see,  then,  that  the  guilt  which  we  contract  is  not  a 
fate  riveted  upon  the  soul,  but  an  incubus,  a  burden  which 
may  be  rolled  off,  though  oftentimes  with  painful  effort, 
from  our  shoulders.  God  desireth  not  the  death  of  the 
wicked,  but  rather  that  they  should  turn  to  him  and  live  ; 
that  is,  attain  to  the  true  and  pure  and  higher  life.  He 
will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness,  and  render  to  every 
man  according  to  his  deeds,  but  He  pities  and  forgives  the 
penitent,  and  extends  to  them  his  hand  that  they  may  walk 
with  trembling,  faltering  steps  in  the  ways  of  holiness.  By 
virtue  of  the  gracious  constitution  of  things,  which  we  have 
depicted,  there  is  a  curative  and  reparative  power  by  which 
evil  is  transmuted,  defects  remedied,  and  new  openings 
made  to  good.  And  even  the  disabling  and  enslaving  ef- 
fects of  sin  upon  the  soul,  that  most  deadly  of  its  penalties, 
may  be  eradicated  by  the  exercise  of  that  liberty  and  privi- 
lege to  which  the  gospel  invites  the  sinner,  of  turning  to 
the  supreme  good. 

Such  is  the  theory  of  the  religious  life,  and  of  the  gos- 
pel scheme.  All  the  rest  is  mere  form,  phrase,  and  prag- 
matism, to  which  we  are  in  danger  of  attaching  too  much 
fully  more  than  of  attaching  too  little  importance.  Ritual 
and  dogma  may  be  so  skillfully  elaborated,  so  cunningly 
adapted  to  the  frailties  and  likings  of  the  mass  of  mankind, 
as  to  form  the  strength  of  the  Churches,  while  they  prove 
the  weakness  of  our  Christianity — the  cause,  direct  or  indi- 
rect, for  example,  why  the  non-Christian  nations  can  dis- 
cern in  our  civilization  so  little  to  admire  or  to  copy. 
Stripped  of  dogma,  a  creed  may  seem  to  be  scanty,  but  not 
too  scanty  if  it  serve  to  lift  the  moral  life  of  man  into  like- 
ness and  fellowship  with  the  Divine.     Catholic  theologians, 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  jqq 

in  the  name  of  religion,  demand  more  than  tliis :  namely,  that 
men  should  pay  honor  to  God  by  the  profession  of  an  elab- 
orate form  of  faith,  and  by  the  practice  of  an  unproductive 
cult  or  ritual.     But  it  is  a  question  whether  such  a  view  of 
religion  can  be  consistently  held  by  Protestants.     The  Ref- 
ormation was  a  protest,  before  the  Diet  of  Spires,  against 
the  degradation  of  Christianity.     Luther  broke  with  Rome 
solely  because  it  had  lost  its  power  to  lift  the  life  of  man  ; 
because  it  trafficked  with  souls,  and  sanctioned  all  enormi- 
ties.    He  made  no  attempt,  it  is  well  known,  to  create  a  new 
theology.     A  sentiment  of   the  deepest  reverence  for  the 
purely  theological  portions  of  the  ancient  creed  was  what 
gave  impulse  to  his  reforming  zeal.     He  took  exceptions  to 
such  portions  of  it  only  as  seemed  to  him  to  be  at  variance 
with  the  formal  and  material  principles  of  Reformation, 
and  to  lie  at  the  root  of  the  growing  vices  and  corruptions 
of  Christendom.     But  the  second  Reformation  will  start 
Avith  a  more  sweeping  principle,  and  proceed  more  thor- 
oughly to  work,  for  it  will  not  only  discard  whatever  of 
the  popular  creed  is  hostile  to  the  higher  life,  but  it  will 
be  a  protest  against  making  of  any  faith  or  dogma,  which 
is  not  necessary  for  the  lifting  of  human  life,  a  condition 
of  salvation.     Men  are  gradually  feeling  their  way  to  this 
point ;  and  we  are  blind  not  to  see  that  we  are  already  in 
the  midst  of  this  second  Reformation,  a  Reformation  all 
the  greater,  because  it  cometh  not  with  observation. 

We  are  led  to  the  conclusion  that  both  ritual  and  doo-ma 
should  be  simple,  ministrant,  and  unobtrusive,  that  they  may 
not  encroach  too  much  on  the  proper  sphere  of  religion,  or 
be  substituted  in  its  place,  or  exhaust  that'  spiritual  force 
in  man  which  should  be  reserved  for  it.  Enough  if,  in  the 
necessary  acts  of  common  worship,  and  of  private  devotion, 
these  give  a  popular,  flexible,  and  vanishing  expression  to 
the  religious  consciousness.  But  that  consciousness  itself  is 
fed  from  the  deeper  springs  of  reverence  and  sympathy,  of 
8 


170  THE  EENOVATINa  rOWER  [sermon  x. 

personal  love  and  trust ;  which,  welling  np  first  in  the  soul 
of  Christ,  have  been  derived  from  him  to  all  who  have 
yielded  to  the  attraction  of  the  Cross,  to  an  attraction  which 
propagates  itself  from  one  to  another,  even  "  without  the 
Word"  (1  Peter  iii,  1),  by  signs  of  a  hidden  life,  not  arti- 
ficial, which  the  heart  can  decipher. 

If  it  be  thought  that  we  have  attributed  to  the  doctrine 
of  the  spiritual  harvest  a  value  too  dominating,  and  a  sweep 
too  wide,  or  that  we  have  drawn  from  it  inferences  of  a  na- 
ture too  negative  and  destructive,  we  reply  that  it  itself  is 
the  most  positive  of  doctrines  ;  that,  by  the  unassailable 
and  commanding  position  which  it  occupies  among  the  doc- 
trines of  religion,  it  supplies  a  sufiicient  basis  for  the  infer- 
ences which  have  been  drawn  from  it,  and  acts  as  a  dam 
against  that  dogmatic  flood  which  threatens  even  now  from 
Rome  and  Oxford,  as  by  a  final  effort,  to  carry  all  before  it. 
By  holding  to  this  fact  of  the  spiritual  harvest,  we  at  once 
reduce  the  dimensions  of  dogma,  and  make  it  to  be  felt  that, 
dogmatize  and  spiritualize  as  we  may,  we  can  not  escape, 
by  a  single  jot  or  tittle,  the  responsibility  which  clings  to 
us,  and  that  the  help  which  dogma  and  ritual  give  us  to 
meet  that  responsibility  is  the  exact  measure  of  their  truth 
and  value. 

Well  may  we  reverence  the  memory  of  Christ,  as  Me- 
diator between  God  and  man ;  because  He  it  was  who, 
from  the  depths  of  his  own  experience,  imparted  to  men 
the  knowledge  of  God  as  our  Father  in  heaven  ;  whose 
property  it  is  to  forgive  the  trespasses  of  his  children, 
and  to  incline  their  feet  into  the  path  of  righteousness. 
But  let  us  reject  those  dogmatic  exaggerations  of  the  doc- 
trine which,  in  the  hands  of  that  Church  which  is  strong 
in  the  indisputable  possession  of  historical  right,  have  been 
as  a  hammer  to  forge  the  chains  of  the  "  most  formida- 
ble spiritual  despotism  which  the  world  has  ever  seen "  ; 
and  by  the  retention  of  which,  in  spite  of  their  inconsist- 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  171 

ency  with  her  own  principle  of  life,  the  Church  of  the 
Reformation  has  not  only  enfeebled  her  protest  and  her 
claim  to  a  higher  right  than  the  historical,  but  carries 
within  herself  to  this  day  the  seeds  of  dissolution,  and  ex- 
poses herself  to  the  risk  of  disappearing  again  beneath  the 
rallying  tide  of  Romanism. 

But,  indeed,  the  views  expoimded  lead  us  to  regard 
with  very  moderate  respect,  if  not  with  much  suspicion, 
all  rigid  ecclesiastical  organizations,  which  necessarily  have 
an  ineradicable  tendency  to  retard  the  progress  of  the  race, 
even  when  not  avowedly  altogether  hostile  to  human  lib- 
erty and  culture.  If  the  generally  accepted  necessity  for 
such  organizations  may  scare  us  from  a  disparaging  view  of 
them,  the  irreconcilable  feuds  and  mutual  intolerance  of  the 
Churches  may  go  far,  perhaps,  to  justify  such  a  view.  The 
common  life  of  man  is  the  true  form  in  which,  and  through 
Avhich,  religion  has  to  shine  and  show  itself.  Such  is  the 
purpose  of  God.  Whereas  the  idea  of  the  Church,  as  sup- 
plying the  form  for  a  religious  life,  a  life  within  the  life, 
separate  from  the  common  work-day  life,  rests  ultimately 
on  a  dualistic  and  unchristian  basis  ;  and  is  a  fugitive  de- 
vice— a  devout  imagination  of  man's  heart.  "We  may  rest 
assured  that  the  world  would  not  be  better,  but  a  great  deal 
worse,  than  it  is,  if  a  conventual,  ascetic,  ecclesiastical,  or 
pietistic  air  were  to  pervade  all  its  doings  and  institutions. 

The  formation  of  a  truly  noble  and  manly  character 
and  individuality  depends  on  our  keeping  in  mind  that  we 
are  responsible  for  our  actions,  and  on  our  resolutely  accept- 
ing that  responsibility.  If  we  imagine  that  our  responsi- 
bility may  be  transferred  to  other  shoulders,  all  we  can 
expect  to  issue  from  such  a  doctrine  is  an  effeminate  and 
spurious  sentimentality  ;  a  piety  artificial,  even  when  not 
divorced  from  life  and  practice  ;  a  religion  which,  if  sin- 
cere in  the  sense  of  being  without  hypocrisy  or  dissimula- 
tion, is  not  sincere  in  the  sense  of  being  pure  and  undefiled. 


172  THE  RENOVATING  POWER  [seemon  x. 

The  hope  of  escaping  responsibility  for  our  vices  and  our 
mistakes  is  what  makes  a  devotee,  not  to  say  a  saint.  But 
only  he  who  feels  that  a  necessity  is  laid  upon  him  of  bear- 
ing his  own  burden,  and  helping  others  to  bear  theirs,  may 
hope  to  grow  into  that  noblest  work  of  God,  the  simply 
honest  man,  the  genuine  disciple  of  Christ. 

In  conclusion,  there  is  no  occasion  to  fear  that  the  ap- 
prehension, in  the  form  of  scientific  truths,  of  the  law  of 
continuity,  and  of  the  Divine  good-will  implied  in  that  law, 
will  make  the  act  of  faith  less  necessary  to  give  to  both 
their  practical  influence  over  the  life.  We  are  at  one  with 
those  who  regard  faith,  not  as  supplying  the  lack  of  evi- 
dence to  truths  imperfectly  authenticated  or  understood, 
but  as  lending  to  truths  which  are  theoretically  received, 
and  more  or  less  understood,  their  proper  power  over  the 
life  and  conduct.  Our  endeavor  has  been  to  show  what 
modifications  of  the  popular  construction  of  Christianity 
are  needed  to  bring  it  into  harmony  with  the  laws  of  men- 
tal physiology.  We  regard  Divine  judgment  and  Divine 
forgiveness,  which  is  but  a  form  or  species  of  judgment,  as 
both  alike  regulated  by  law  ;  and  law  itself  as  identical 
with  the  Avill  of  a  living  God.  To  stop  short  of  this  would 
be  to  disown  the  light  which  science  sheds  upon  human 
destiny  ;  to  go  beyond  this  would  be  to  leave  no  room  in 
human  thought  or  practice  for  that  religious  principle  which 
is  essential  to  our  nature.  The  defense  of  popular  Christi- 
anity— and  it  is  a  sufficient  defense — is,  that  it  is  popular  ; 
a  figure  or  an  allegory  of  the  absolute  truth  which  is  en- 
shrined in  it.  But  the  more  that  science  spreads  and  estab- 
lishes its  claim  to  rule  human  thought,  the  more  will  it 
become  necessary  to  discriminate  between  the  figure  and 
the  thing  itself  ;  and  to  acknowledge  frankly  the  subjective 
and  symbolical  character  of  the  Dogma.  In  making  this 
acknowledgment  to  ourselves,  while  provisionally  retaining 
the  popular  and  dogmatic  forms  of  expression,  we  shall  but 


MACKINTOSH.]  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  173 

act  upon  the  germinant  suggestion  of  Luther,  that  things 
which  we  do  not  fully  understand  we  may  yet  represent 
to  ourselves  under  images,  even  though  they  may  not  ex- 
actly tally  with  the  images  of  which  we  make  use  for  this 
purpose.* 

*  "  Wir  mussen  alle  Dinge,  die  wir  nicht  kennen  und  wissen,  durch  Bil- 
der  fassen,  ob  sie  gleich  nicht  so  eben  zutreffen,  oder  in  Wahrheit  also 
seein,  wie  es  die  Bilder  malen."— Luther,  as  quoted  by  Weisse,  in  his  "  Zu- 
kunft  der  evangelischen  Kircbe  " 


174  AUTHORITY.  [sermon  xi. 


XL 

AUTHOKITY. 

BY    THE   REV.    W.    L.    m'fARLAN,    LENZIE. 

"Prove  all  things." — 1  Thessalonians  v,  21. 

The  court  in  which  our  faculties  of  observation,  re- 
flection, discrimination  sit  as  judges  is  recognized  by  an 
increasing  number  of  persons  as  that  before  which  it  is  our 
right  to  test  the  validity  of  all  opinions  presented  for  our 
acceptance.  There  are  still,  however,  on  the  other  hand, 
some  who  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  the  court 
thus  constituted,  and  who  maintain,  in  opposition  to  the 
claims  of  the  judges  within  the  breast  to  be  supreme  in  all 
matters  of  belief,  the  right  of  powers  without  it  finally  to 
decide  for  us  what  is  true  and  what  is  false.  In  other  words, 
the  old  controversy  between  the  rights  of  private  judgment 
and  the  rights  of  authority  is  still  unsettled.  Any  contribu- 
tion, consequently,  toward  the  settlement  of  it,  which  a 
Christian  minister  has  to  offer,  may  not  be  unacceptable  to 
the  members  of  a  Christian  congregation. 

I  propose,  accordingly,  in  the  present  discourse,  to  vin- 
dicate the  claims  of  the  individual  reason  to  supreme  au- 
thority over  the  beliefs  of  the  individual.  In  my  vindication 
of  them,  I  shall  confine  my  observations  to  one  sphere  ex- 
clusively— that  of  religion.  It  is  unnecessary  that  I  should 
defend  the  rights  of  the  individual  reason  in  any  other 
department  of  human  knowledge  than  the  theological  or 
religious,  because  in  all  other  departments  these  rights  are 


m'farlan.J  a  nTIlORlTY.  I75 

acknowledged,  theoretically  at  least.  We  attribute,  no 
doubt,  a  certain  authority  to  experts  in  the  various  sciences. 
Most  of  us  are  content  to  take  pretty  much  at  second-hand 
our  astronomy  from  the  astronomer,  our  chemistry  from  the 
chemist,  our  physiology  from  the  physiologist.  Or,  to  come 
down  to  homelier  matters,  most  of  us  when  attacked  by 
disease  intrust  ourselves,  with  a  confidence  more  or  less  im- 
plicit, to  the  physician.  Warned  again  by  the  proverb, 
"  He  that  is  his  own  counsel  hath  a  fool  for  his  client,"  we 
put  our  case  in  the  hands  of  the  lawyer  when  we  are  forced 
in  courts  of  justice  to  defend  our  rights  or  to  redress  our 
wrongs.  But,  while  we  thus  permit  the  professional  man 
and  the  scientific  sjjecialist  to  exercise  a  certain  authority 
over  our  beliefs  and  over  the  conduct  which  is  dependent 
on  our  beliefs,  the  authority  which  we  concede  to  them  is 
merely  provisional.  We  change  our  medical  or  our  legal 
adviser  so  soon  as  we  have  or  think  that  we  have  sufficient 
cause  for  believing  that  the  advice  of  the  one  or  of  the 
other  is  erroneous.  We  do  not  place  ourselves  absolutely 
at  the  mercy  of  those  who  popularize  for  us  the  various 
sciences.  The  credence  which  we  have  given  to  the  state- 
ments of  a  lecturer  on  chemistry  would  be  shaken,  were  we 
to  learn  that  they  were  contradicted  by  other  competent 
chemists.  Nay,  we  always  conceive  it  possible  that  we  may 
become  chemists  ourselves,  that  we  may  yet  acquire  such 
knowledge  of  the  science  of  chemistry  as  would  enable  us 
intelligently  to  follow  and  justly  to  appraise  the  arguments 
by  which  the  statements  and  counter-statements  of  the 
conflicting  professors  of  it  are  respectively  supported.  We 
do  not,  therefore,  concede  to  professional  practitioners  in 
law  or  medicine,  nor  to  the  professed  teachers  of  any  sci- 
ence, an  authority  which  is  more  than  provisional ;  neither 
do  we,  avowedly,  at  all  events,  recognize  in  any  of  our  fel- 
low creatures  a  right  to  dictate  to  us  our  political  beliefs. 
Practically  many  of  us,  as  to  these  beliefs,  may  be  blindly 


176  AUTHOEITT.  [sermon  xi. 

led  by  our  favorite  newspaper,  or  we  may  tamely  submit  to 
the  prevalent  opinion  of  our  class,  or  to  the  traditions  of 
our  family.  Theoretically,  however,  we  all  assert  that  in 
regard  to  our  political,  as  in  regard  to  our  scientific  opinions, 
we  are  not  in  bondage  to  any  man. 

There  only  remains  the  sphere  of  religion,  it  thus  ap- 
pears, in  which  it  may  turn  out  that  men  consciously  sub- 
mit to  an  authority  which  is  more  than  provisional,  and 
disclaim  the  right  of  proving  all  things.  To  this  sphere, 
therefore,  I  shall  restrict  my  remarks.  In  it  we  shall  find 
that  the  only  supposed  claimant,  whose  claims  to  supremacy 
over  our  beliefs,  in  opposition  to  those  of  the  individual 
reason,  it  is  worth  our  while  to  consider,  is  the  Bible.  The 
spiritual  descendants  of  the  most  strenuous  of  all  the  Re- 
formers, we  recognize  neither  in  Church  nor  Council,  Pope 
nor  priest,  the  right  to  impose  upon  us  theological  dogmas. 
With  the  Covenanters  most  of  us  thoroughly  sympathize, 
in  so  far  as  they  refused  to  accept,  at  the  bidding  of  the 
Stuart  Princes,  a  doctrine,  a  worship,  an  ecclesiastical  pol- 
ity, which  were  distasteful  to  them,  and  indignantly  de- 
clined to  be  "  of  the  King's  religion,"  to  borrow  from  the 
great  French  autocrat  —  whom  Charles  and  James  were 
anxious  to  imitate — a  phrase  which  he  was  fond  of  using. 
In  a  country  in  which  dissent  is  rife  and  multiform,  no 
dissident  minority  has  occasion  to  dread,  on  the  part  of  a 
tyrannous  majority,  interference  with  its  "  freedom  to  wor- 
ship God."  Neither,  then,  on  behalf  of  the  Church,  nor  of 
the  State,  nor  of  public  opinion,  are  claims  to  an  absolute 
authority  over  our  religious  beliefs  openly  urged  in  Protes- 
tant Scotland.  No  doubt  there  is  not  a  little  of  social  in- 
tolerance among  us.  Those  who  avow  what  are  called  infi- 
del opinions  are  ostracized.  The  Socinian,  even,  is  regarded 
with  a  certain  suspicion  and  dislike.  Nay,  there  are  still 
circles  in  which  every  departure,  however  slight,  from  the 
dogmas  of  the  Westminster  Divines,  or,  at  all  events,  from 


M'FABLAN.]  A  UTHORITY.  177 

some  such  modified  creed,  let  us  say,  as  that  of  the  Evan- 
gelical Alliance,  are  denounced  as  sinful.  As  the  counter- 
part of  the  impatience  thus  manifested  toward  those  who 
venture  to  diverge  from  the  prevalent  orthodoxy  of  the 
day,  we  find  in  Scottish  society  a  tendency  to  accept  hlindly 
the  theological  traditions  handed  down  to  us  from  the  past, 
and  to  receive  as  doctrines  divine  the  opinions  of  the  doc- 
tors in  divinity  vrhora  we  have  heen  accustomed  to  revere. 
This,  practically,  is  the  attitude  of  a  large  number  of  Scotch- 
men toward  the  creeds  of  the  past,  or  the  popular  theology 
of  the  present.  Theoretically,  however,  they  disclaim  all 
title,  whether  on  the  part  of  the  Puritan  divines  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  or  of  the  Pan-Presbyterian  doctors  of  the 
nineteenth,  to  impose  upon  them  their  theological  beliefs. 
They  derive  these,  they  say,  direct  from  the  Bible,  the  only 
rule  of  faith  and  manners.  If  they  condemn  misbelievers, 
it  is,  they  assure  you,  because  misbelievers  despise  the  au- 
thority of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  not  because  they  reject  that 
of  any  uninspired  theologians,  dead  or  living. 

It  is  only  to  the  Bible,  then,  that  an  authority  superior 
to  that  of  reason  and  conscience  is  attributed  among  us — 
in  theory  at  least.  To  the  Scriptures  Protestants  have  con- 
ceded the  infallibility  which  they  have  denied  to  the  Church. 
The  utterances  of  Scripture  may  in  some  cases,  it  is  avowed, 
be  incomprehensible  by  the  ordinary  human  faculties.  They 
may  awaken  no  response  in  the  higher  reason  of  man.  They 
may  excite  repulsion  even  in  his  conscience.  Still  they  pro- 
ceed, it  is  alleged,  from  the  eternal  reason.  They  express 
a  knowledge  which  exists  in  the  Divine  mind.  They  are 
truths  which  have  been  supernaturally  communicated  to  the 
specially  guided  or  the  specially  gifted.  They  ought,  there- 
fore, to  receive  unquestioning  assent  from  all  who  would  be 
of  the  household  of  faith.  Not  only  must  all  that  the  Scrip- 
tures teach  about  morality  and  religion,  about  man's  rela- 
tions to  God  and  the  duties  which  he  owes  him,  be  thus 


178  AUTHORITY.  Fsermon  xi. 

without  question  accepted  —  there  must  be  no  caviling, 
either  at  anything  they  have  to  tell  us  in  regard  to  the  era 
or  the  manner  of  the  world's  creation,  the  chronology  of 
primeval  times,  the  history  of  the  judges  and  the  kings  of 
Israel,  the  origins  of  Christianity  and  the  controversies  of 
the  primitive  church.  All  their  statements  alike  must  re- 
ceive implicit  credence,  for  all  alike  were  written  by  penmen 
who  had  access  to  the  mind  of  Omniscience,  and  were  in 
contact  with  it  when  they  wrote.  Human  reason  may  be 
legitimately  employed  in  examining  the  evidences  of  the 
Divine  authorship  of  the  Scriptures,  and  in  interpreting 
their  contents  ;  but  it  can  not  be  legitimately  employed  in 
calling  in  question  the  veracity  of  any  statement  within  the 
boards  of  the  sacred  volume  whose  meaning  has  been  ascer- 
tained. 

Such  are  the  claims  to  an  absolute  authority  in  all  mat- 
ters of  belief  which  are  urged  on  behalf  of  the  Bible  by 
those  who  hold  the  theory  of  its  plenary  inspiration  and 
verbal  infallibility.  I  have  stated  that  theory  in  all  its 
"  rigor  and  vigor,"  but  I  do  not  think  that  I  have  carica- 
tured it.  It  may  seldom  be  obtruded  upon  us  in  these  days 
in  its  most  uncompromising  form.  No  preacher  of  any 
pretensions  to  intelligence  and  culture  now  speaks  of  those 
who  wrote  the  Scriptures  as  though  they  were  mere  me- 
chanical instruments  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  automaton  penmen 
as  it  were,  who  performed  the  parts  arranged  for  them  just 
as  the  automaton  chess-players  and  card-players  of  whom 
we  read  perform  their  parts  in  the  manner  designed  by  the 
cunning  mechanists  who  have  formed  and  who  work  them. 
It  is  the  fact,  nevertheless,  I  believe,  that  some  such  theory 
of  inspiration  as  that  which  I  have  described  above  is  main- 
tained by  all  who  regard  the  whole  Bible  as  the  Word  of 
God,  and  therefore  as  entitled  in  all  its  parts  to  an  author- 
ity over  the  reason  of  man  which  is  absolute  and  final. 

Is  this  theory,  we  have  now  to  ask,  of  the  infallibility 


m'farlan.]  authority.  I79 

of  the  Bible'  valid  ?  Can  we  discover  in  the  Scriptures  an 
external  authority  which  shall  supersede  the  internal  au- 
thority of  reason  and  conscience  ?  That  we  may  be  able  to 
answer  these  questions,  let  us  examine  the  grounds  on  which 
those  who  claim  for  the  Bible  an  absolute  authority  rest 
their  claim.  Their  argument,  I  take  it,  may  be  thus  briefly 
stated  :  Miracles  are  the  credentials  granted  to  those  to 
whom  a  Divine  mission  is  intrusted.  But  it  is  attested  by 
persons  who  wrote  within  thirty  or  forty  years  of  Christ's 
death,  and  who  suifered  for  their  testimony,  that  Christ  and 
his  apostles  wrought  miracles.  Therefore  we  may  conclude 
that  to  them  a  Divine  mission  had  been  intrusted.  Now, 
persons  intrusted  with  such  a  mission  must,  in  executing  it, 
speak  with  absolute  authority.  In  executing  their  mission 
— in  discharging  their  function,  i.  e.,  as  religious  teachers 
sent  from  God — Christ  and  his  apostles,  it  is  recorded  by  the 
credible  witnesses  mentioned  above,  claim  for  "  the  law  and 
prophets,"  i.  e.,  for  all  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  it  is 
assumed,  a  Divine  authority  similar  to  that  which  their  own 
words  possessed.  Hence  it  follows  that  the  entire  Scrip- 
tures both  of  the  New  Testament  and  the  Old  are  authori- 
tative, and  true  because  authoritative.  Such,  in  brief,  is 
the  argument  by  which  the  theory  of  the  infallibility  of  the 
Bible  is  supported.  The  argument  seems  logically  valid. 
If  the  premises  of  the  various  syllogisms  into  which  it  might 
have  been  developed  are  all  statements  which  can  be  veri- 
fied, the  desiderated  conclusion  is  unavoidable.  The  mis- 
fortune is,  that  the  premises  in  the  concatenated  argument 
presented  to  you  above  can  not  be  verified.  They  can  not 
be  verified  otherwise  than  by  an  appeal  to  human  authority, 
to  the  authority  of  the  learned  in  our  own  day  it  may  be, 
or  at  all  events  ultimately  to  that  of  Fathers  and  Councils 
of  the  Church  which  Protestants,  by  the  necessity  of  their 
position,  disclaim.  The  ordinary  reader  of  the  Bible,  if  he 
is  to  accept  the  argument  in  support  of  its  verbal  infallibil- 


180  ^  UTHORITY.     "  [sEEMON  xi. 

ity  at  all,  must  accept  it  from  beginning  to  end,  must  ac- 
cept it  entire  on  the  authority  of  the  erudite.  He  can  not 
verify  for  himself  the  statements  that  the  Gospels  and  the 
Book  of  Acts  were  written  within  forty  years  even  of 
Christ's  death  ;  that  the  record  which  they  contain  of  the 
miracles,  alleged  to  have  been  wrought  by  Christ  and  his 
apostles,  is  one  on  whose  truthfulness  we  can  implicitly 
rely  ;  that  the  report  which  they  give  him  of  their  sayings 
in  general  is  thoroughly  accurate  ;  that  their  report  of  the 
words  in  particular,  in  which  the  divinely  commissioned 
teachers  of  the  New  Testament  affirm,  it  is  supposed,  the 
infallibility  of  all  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  is  a  cor- 
rect representation  of  their  teaching  on  that  subject.  On 
all  these  points  the  ordinary  reader  of  the  Bible  is  depen- 
dent on  students  who  are  learned  and  leisured.  How  can  he 
satisfy  himself  that  the  learned  men,  on  whose  authority  he 
rests  his  belief  in  the  Bible's  authority,  are  the  most  learned 
men  he  can  find  ?  There  is  no  consensus  of  the  erudite  in 
regard  to  that  theory  of  an  infallible  Bible,  to  which  he  is 
asked  to  pin  his  faith.  Far  from  it.  The  theory  aforesaid, 
which,  by  dint  of  much  erudition,  one  school  of  theologians 
think  that  they  have  established,  another  school  of  theolo- 
gians affirm  that  they,  by  dint  of  greater  erudition,  have 
demolished.  If,  therefore,  the  ordinary  reader  of  the  Bible 
is  to  accept  the  theory  of  its  verbal  infallibility,  he  must 
accept  it  by  attributing  a  practical  infallibility  to  the  divines 
of  the  school  to  which  he  has  arbitrarily  given  the  prefer- 
ence. More  than  this.  The  learned  men  themselves  who 
have  formulated  the  theory  in  question  are  ultimately  de- 
pendent upon  human  authority  for  their  belief  in  it.  The 
right  of  each  of  the  books  which  make  up  the  Scriptures  to 
a  place  in  the  sacred  canon  can  be  established  only  by  the 
authority  of  the  early  Councils  of  the  Church — by  the  au- 
thority, indeed,  of  the  early  Fathers  of  the  Church,  whose 
opinions  in  regard  to  the  date  and  the  authorship  of  the 


m'farlan.]  authority.  181 

various  books  in  the  Bible  were  adopted  by  the  Councils 
wbich  decided  as  to  the  canonicity  of  each.  It  is  only  on 
the  authority  of  these  Fathers,  therefore,  that  they  rest  their 
belief  in  the  early  date  of  the  Gospels  and  the  Book  of  Acts. 
It  is  only  on  their  authority  also,  it  follows,  that  they  can 
satisfy  themselves  as  to  the  accuracy  of  the  narratives  which 
contain  records  of  the  miracles  wrought  by  Christ  and  his 
apostles.  Now,  these  miracles,  according  to  the  theory  we 
are  discussing,  are  the  attestation  of  the  Divine  mission  of 
the  Founder  of  our  religion  and  his  immediate  followers. 
The  conclusion,  therefore,  is  inevitable,  that  the  advocates 
of  the  infallibility  of  the  Bible  must  ultimately  accept  on 
human  authority  the  proposition  on  which  the  whole  stress 
of  their  argument  in  favor  of  it  rests — the  proposition, 
namely,  that  it  is  proved,  by  the  miracles  which  Christ  and 
his  apostles  wrought,  that  they  had  such  access  to  the  mind 
of  Omniscience  as  made  them  absolutely  infallible  in  all 
they  said  and  wrote.  Whatever,  therefore,  may  be  said  in 
favor  of  the  theory  which  represents  the  Bible  as  true  be- 
cause authoritative,  it  can  not  be  affirmed  of  it  that  it  is 
consistent  with  the  principles  of  Protestantism. 

The  Reformers  entertained  no  such  theory  in  regard  to 
the  Scriptures.  They  appealed  from  the  Church  to  the 
Bible,  no  doubt.  They  professed  to  derive  all  their  the 
ology  from  the  latter,  and  not  from  the  fomer.  But  they 
regarded  the  Bible  not  as  true  because  authoritative,  but 
as  authoritative  because  true,  Luther's  views  in  regard  to 
the  canon  were  what  many  in  these  days  would  consider 
lax.  Well-informed  persons  are  aware  that  he  Avas  inclined 
to  exclude  from  the  canon  the  Revelation  of  John.  Every 
one  knows  in  what  contemptuous  terms  he  spoke  of  the 
Epistle  of  James.  The  Westminster  Divines  adhere  to  a 
doctrine  which  was  substantially  identical  with  that  of  the 
great  Reformer.  These  astute  logicians  perceived  that,  had 
they  adopted  the  opposite  doctrine  and  maintained  that  the 


182  AUTHOEITY.  [sermon  xi. 

Bible  was  true  because  authoritative,  they  would  have  been 
compelled  ultimately  to  submit,  in  one  form  or  another,  to 
the  dictation  of  the  Church,  whose  right  to  dictate  to  men 
their  beliefs  they  and  their  spiritual  progenitors  had  so 
strenuously  denied.  They  therefore  held  that  the  Bible 
was  authoritative  because  true.  "  The  authority  of  the 
holy  Scripture,"  they  say,  "  for  which  it  ought  to  be  be- 
lieved and  obeyed,  dependeth  not  upon  the  testimony  of 
any  man  or  church,  but  wholly  upon  God  (who  is  truth  it- 
self), the  author  thereof"  ;  and  again,  "  Our  full  persuasion 
and  assurance  of  the  authority  of  Scripture  is  from  the  in- 
ward work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  bearing  witness  by  and  with 
the  word  in  our  hearts,"  This  is  remarkable  language. 
When  it  is  translated  out  of  the  dialect  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  which  the  Divines  of  Westminster  spoke,  into  that 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  which  we  speak,  it  amounts,  I 
think,  substantially  to  this  :  that  the  Scriptures  are  authori- 
tative only  in  so  far  as  they  are  true.  The  distinction  be- 
tween the  human  and  the  Divine  elements  in  Scripture  was 
not  of  course  so  distinctly  recognized,  either  by  the  Re- 
formers or  the  Westminster  Divines,  as  it  is  by  thoughtful 
theologians  in  our  own  times.  That  distinction  had  not 
been  forced  upon  the  attention  of  the  former  as  it  has  been 
forced  upon  the  attention  of  the  latter,  by  the  discoveries 
of  men  of  science  and  the  investigations  of  Biblical  critics. 
Still,  they  assert,  we  have  seen,  that  the  chief  assurance 
which  we — we,  the  elect  in  the  dialect  of  their  day,  we, 
the  spiritually  susceptible  in  the  dialect  of  our  day — have 
of  the  "  divine  authority  of  Scripture  is  from  the  inward 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  bearing  witness  by  and  with  the 
word  in  our  hearts."  And  this  language  they  must  have 
perceived  was  totally  inapplicable  to  such  portions  of  Scrip- 
ture as  the  descriptions  of  the  dimensions  and  furniture  of 
the  tabernacle  in  Leviticus,  the  genealogies  of  Chronicles, 
the  historical  narratives,  even,  of  the  Old  Testament,  in  their 


m'farlan.J  AUTHOUITl.  183 

details  at  least,  the  purely  historical  and  the  apocaljptic 
sections  of  the  New  Testament  itself.  We  may  claim, 
therefore,  to  have  the  Westminster  Divines  with  us,  when 
we  assert  that  the  Scriptures  are  authoritative  because  true, 
and  only  in  such  portions  of  them  as  awaken  a  response  in 
those  in  whom  reason  and  conscience,  the  faculties  by  which 
alone  ti'uth  can  be  discerned,  have  been  duly  developed. 

This  doctrine  of  the  Westminster  Divines  in  regard 
to  the  Bible  is  really  that  of  all  simple  and  devout  souls. 
They  find  in  the  Bible  manifold  revelations  of  God,  which 
awaken  a  resj^onse  in  their  conscience,  and  confirm  those 
prepossessions  of  their  spiritual  nature,  loyal  trust  in  which 
alone  deserves  the  name  of  faith.  Finding  in  the  Bible 
many  revelations  which  need  no  testimony  from  without 
as  to  their  truth,  they  probably  speak  of  the  Bible  as  a 
whole  as  the  revelation  of  God.  Quite  possibly  they  em- 
ploy phrases  borrowed  from  that  theory  of  verbal  inspira- 
tion which  is,  we  may  say,  an  article  of  luxury  fabricated 
by  those  who  are  at  once  learned  and  leisured  for  their  own 
use  and  delectation  :  but  that  theory  in  reality  has  over 
them  but  little  influence.  Its  phrases  upon  their  lips  are 
not  scientific  propositions  to  be  interpreted  with  rigid  accu- 
racy. They  are  the  mere  hyperboles  of  affection,  its  fervid 
exaggerations.  For  simple  and  pious  souls  in  our  own  day, 
as  for  the  Psalmist  of  old,  the  law  of  the  Lord,  his  word, 
his  testimonies,  his  statutes,  his  commandments,  in  which 
they  rejoice  and  take  delight,  finding  them  more  precious 
than  gold,  sweeter  than  honey,  and  the  honey-comb,  are 
not  the  whole  Bible,  but  those  portions  of  the  Bible  only 
which  they  have  found  in  their  experience  helpful  to  their 
souls.  All  who  have  a  love  for  the  Bible  which  is  that  of 
the  heart  and  not  merely  of  the  lips,  that  of  the  closet  stu- 
dent of  it,  and  not  of  the  platform  spouter  about  it,  have 
their  favorite  books  and  portions  of  books,  and  these  alone 
are  to  them  Divine  revelations.     Through  these  portions  of 


184  AUTHORITY.  [sermon  xi. 

Scripture  God  speaks  to  their  souls  with  authority,  but  in 
their  souls  they  feel  that  they  are  divinely  authoritative 
only  because  they  are  divinely  true. 

This  is  the  manner  in  which  men  and  women,  who  are 
pious  without  being  learned  or  leisured,  regard  their  Bi- 
bles ;  so  long  at  least  as  they  remain  unsophisticated  in 
spirit  by  the  votaries  of  the  fine-spun  theories  we  have  been 
discussing.  In  a  manner  essentially  similar,  men  and  wo- 
men who  are  more  highly  educated,  though  they  do  not 
pretend  to  great  erudition,  regard  their  Bibles.  What  the 
former  class  of  persons  vaguely  feel,  the  latter  class  of 
persons  intelligently  discern.  After  much  reading  and 
more  reflection,  they  have  satisfied  themselves  that  the 
theory  of  the  verbal' inspiration  of  the  Bible,  in  vogue  dur- 
ing the  last  and  the  first  half  of  the  present  centuries — the 
theory,  that  is,  which  attributes  to  every  utterance  in  the 
Bible  an  absolute  authority  ah  extra  over  the  minds  of 
men — is  untenable.  The  Councils,  they  hold,  which  set- 
tled the  canon,  have  failed  to  prove  irrefragably  that  the 
Gospels  and  the  Book  of  Acts  were  written  before  the  close 
of  the  first  century.  Consequently  they  can  not  be  certain 
that  all  the  words  in  them  attributed  to  Christ  and  his 
apostles  were  really  the  words  they  spoke,  undiluted,  un- 
distorted,  unexaggerated.  Neither  can  they  be  absolutely 
sure  that  the  miracles  ascribed  to  them  were  actually 
wrought  by  them.  They  can  not,  therefore,  accept  the 
words  which  Christ  is  reported  to  have  spoken,  nor  those 
which  the  apostles  unquestionably  wrote,  as  the  utterances 
of  teachers,  who  can  be  proved  by  the  miracles  they  wrought 
to  have  had  such  access  to  the  mind  of  Omniscience  as  made 
them  absolutely  infallible  in  all  they  said  and  wrote.  The 
argument  for  the  infallibility  of  the  Old  Testament  falls 
with  that  for  the  infallibility  of  the  New,  for  the  argument 
for  the  infallibility  of  the  former  rests  either  on  assertions 
of  it  m  the  latter,  which  are  attributed  to  Christ  and  his 


m'faelan.J  authority.  185 

apostles,  or  on  predictions  concerning  Christ,  which  pre- 
dictions the  former  contain  and  the  latter  allege  were  ful- 
filled. 

But,  while  the  intelligent  and  open-minded  Protestants 
of  whom  I  speak  at  present  can  not  recognize  as  valid  the 
argument  in  favor  of  the  verbal  infallibility  of  the  Bible, 
they  cherish  for  the  Bible  a  profound  reverence.  The 
Scriptures  contain,  they  believe,  a  revelation  to  man  of 
those  truths  which  it  most  concerns  him  to  know.  Even 
though,  as  the  advanced  critic  alleges,  none  of  the  Gospels 
were  written  before  the  second  century — though,  conse- 
quently, they  can  not  feel  certain  that  any  of  them  report 
with  absolute  accuracy  Christ's  words,  or  record,  without 
adding  some  elements  of  the  legendary  and  mythical,  his 
deeds — they  yet  recognize  in  many  of  the  sayings  and  dis- 
courses attributed  to  Christ  the  words  of  a  Divine  teacher, 
in  his  works  as  a  healer  of  disease  a  Divine  beneficence,  in 
his  life  as  a  whole  a  Divine  life.  Many  of  Christ's  words 
as  reported  in  the  Gospels  are  so  remarkably  illustrated  by 
many  of  his  deeds  recorded  there,  his  character  harmonizes 
so  wonderfully  with  his  teaching,  that  they  are  forced  to 
regard  the  narratives  of  the  evangelists  as  substantially 
truthfiil,  in  so  far  as  they  present  to  us  a  picture  of  the 
personality  of  Christ.  And  that  personality,  they  think,  is 
a  revelation  to  man  as  to  what  God  is,  as  to  what  he  ought 
to  be.  Through  it  there  was  introduced  into  the  world, 
they  hold,  afe  once  a  purer  conception  of  the  Divine  char- 
acter, and  loftier  ideals  of  human  life  and  conduct.  Christ's 
personality  as  presented  in  the  Gospels  introduced  these 
truths  into  the  world,  they  further  perceive,  as  his  teaching 
by  itself  could  not  have  done.     For — 

"  Truth  in  closest  words  shall  fail, 
Where  truth  embodied  in  a  tale 
Shall  enter  in  at  lowly  doors." 


186  AUTHORITY.  [sekmon  xi. 

Thus  in  the  Gospels  especially  do  those  who  are  forced  by 
the  investigations  of  the  Biblical  critic  to  reject  the  theory 
of  verbal  inspiration,  or  any  approximation  to  it,  yet  find  a 
revelation  of  Divine  truths.  But  in  all  Scripture  these 
highly-educated  Christians,  as  well  as  simpler  Christians, 
find  scattered  here  and  there  similar  revelations.  In  the 
Psalms  and  the  discourses  of  the  prophets,  in  which  Christ's 
teaching  concerning  the  righteousness  of  God,  God's  care 
for  man,  the  purity  of  heart  and  life  which  He  demands  of 
him,  are  anticipated,  as  it  were  ;  in  the  writings  of  the 
apostles,  which  not  only  reenforce  Christ's  teachings,  but 
which  present  them  in  new  lights,  we  may  say,  and  show 
how  his  ideal  of  the  Divine  life  can  be  realized  in  circum- 
stances more  closely  analogous  to  our  own  than  those  of 
the  Galilean  peasants  to  whom  He  first  proclaimed  it — in 
the  Scriptures,  that  is,  which  stand  on  either  side  of  the 
Gospels — they  find  a  revelation  of  Divine  truths.  They 
reverence  the  Scriptures  as  a  whole,  because  there  is  so 
much  more  in  them  than  in  any  other  book  which  "  finds 
them,"  to  use  Coleridge's  well-known  phrase,  "  at  the  deep- 
est depths  of  their  being."  But,  while  they  recognize  a 
Divine  element  in  the  Scriptures,  they  recognize  a  human 
element  as  well.  They  do  not  attach  an  equal  value  to  all 
portions  of  them.  They  do  not  place  the  Books  of  Esther 
and  Daniel  on  the  same  level  with  the  Psalter.  They  do  not 
claim  for  the  writers  of  Chronicles  an  inspiration  equal  to 
that  of  the  second  Isaiah,  or  even  the  first.  They  do  not 
pretend  to  find  in  the  historical  books  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment as  much  edification  as  in  the  letters  of  Paul,  nor  in 
the  theological  disquisitions  of  Paul  himself  so  much  fur- 
therance of  the  higher  life  at.  in  the  more  practical  portions 
of  his  Epistles.  They  do  not  affirm  that  the  common-sense 
philosophy  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  serviceable  though  it 
be  in  many  respects,  is  of  equal  worth  with  the  spiritual 
teachings  of  Christ.     While  they  admit  that  there  are  im- 


M'FARLAN.J  AUTHOBITY.  187 

portant  truths  of  morality  and  religion  embodied  in  tlic 
Pentateuch,  they  admit  also  that  its  authors  attribute  an 
importance  to  the  ceremonial  parts  of  religion  which  is 
wholly  at  variance  with  the  loftier  conceptions  of  the  Di- 
vine requirements  entertained  by  the  prophets  ;  and  that 
they,  in  common  with  the  authors  of  all  the  historical 
books,  and  indeed  with  the  prophets  themselves,  both  in 
their  estimates  of  human  character  and  their  interpretations 
of  the  Divine  dealings  with  man,  sometimes  fail  to  set  be- 
fore us  an  ideal  of  life  and  conduct  which  is  pure  and  ele- 
vated. 

Enlightened  Christians  in  the  present  day  feel  that  in 
this  manner  they  are  entitled  to  deal  with  the  Scriptures. 
They  claim  the  right  to  judge  each  of  their  utterances  in 
the  light  of  their  own  Christian  consciousness,  and  to  deny 
Divine  authority  to  any  of  them  which  fall  beneath  the 
ethical  standards  which,  as  men  illuminated  by  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  they  have  set  up  for  their  own  guidance.  They 
deny  all  Divine  authority,  I  may  add,  to  those  portions  of 
Scripture  which  treat  of  matters  which  belong  more  prop- 
erly to  science  and  history  than  to  religion.  The  Christian 
consciousness,  in  the  light  of  which  they  claim  to  judge 
the  Scriptures,  they  admit  has  been  developed  chiefly  by 
the  Scriptures.  It  is  a  spiritual  inheritance  which  belongs 
to  them  as  men  christianly  educated,  as  men,  besides,  who 
are  descended  from  generations  of  the  christianly  educated. 
There  is  nothing,  however,  in  this  admission  on  their  part, 
that  the  Scriptures  have  been  of  highest  service  to  them, 
which  is  inconsistent  with  their  denial,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  the  Scriptures  as  a  whole  are  infallible,  and  therefore 
in  all  their  utterances  authoritative.  It  is  not  the  Scrip- 
tures as  a  whole,  they  maintain,  but  the  higher  teachings  in 
them  only,  which  have  generated  the  Christian  conscious- 
ness in  themselves,  in  the  society  to  which  they  belong. 
Nothing,  they  are  persuaded,  has  done  so  much  to  retard 


188  AUTHOEITT.  [sermon  xi, 

the  development  of  the  Christian  consciousness  in  the  Prot- 
estant sections  of  Christendom  as  the  superstitious  rever- 
ence for  the  Bible  prevalent  among  Protestants.  It  is  one 
of  the  strongest  arguments,  they  think,  against  the  theory 
of  verbal  inspiration,  that,  by  inducing  its  readers  to  attach 
a  like  value  and  a  like  authority  to  all  portions  of  the  Bi- 
ble, it  has  had  this  injurious  influence  on  society.  Grate- 
fully recognizing  all  that  the  Scriptures  have  done  for  the 
race — perceiving  how  they  have  introduced  into  the  world 
the  purest  conceptions  of  the  Divine  nature  and  the  loftiest 
ideals  of  human  character  which  it  has  known,  going  to 
them,  therefore,  with  a  profound  but  with  no  superstitious 
veneration — the  enlightened  Christians,  of  whom  I  have 
been  speaking,  discover  in  them  ever  fuller  and  deeper 
meanings.  Holding  the  views  in  regard  to  the  Scriptures 
which  they  hold,  they  may  be  unable  to  deduce  from  them, 
in  the  shape  of  a  dogmatic  system,  a  theory  of  the  Uni- 
verse which  they  can  impose  upon  their  neighbors  as  com- 
plete and  final.  They  do  find  in  them,  however,  and  in  the 
Christian  consciousness  in  the  formation  of  which  they 
have  had  the  chief  part,  a  working  theory  of  life  which  is 
most  helpful.  Reading  in  the  light  of  that  consciousness 
the  Psalter,  the  Prophets,  the  Epistles,  the  sayings  of 
Christ,  they  never  fail  to  find  in  them  that  which  all  ear- 
nest men  and  women  most  want — help  amid  life's  practical 
difficulties,  comfort  amid  its  sorrows,  the  assurance  of  the 
forgiveness  of  its  sins,  quickening  of  its  loftiest  aspirations 
after  the  divine.  The  Bible,  they  acknowledge,  is  thus  full 
of  revelations  to  the  devout  soul  :  but  they  hold  that  those 
portions  of  it  only  are  revelations  to  them  which  awaken  a 
response  in  the  conscience  and  higher  reason.  Such  is  the 
attitude  assumed  by  many  enlightened  Protestants  in  our 
own  day  toward  the  Bible.  It  is  an  attitude,  I  believe,  es- 
sentially similar  to  that  which  was  assumed  by  the  Reform- 
ers in  the  sixteenth  century.     The  modern  Protestant  may 


m'farlan.] 


A  UTIIORITY.  189 


assert  more  boldly  than  the  primitive  Protestant  that  the 
Bible  is  authoritative  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  true.  But  true 
Protestants,  both  of  the  earlier  period  and  of  the  later, 
agree  in  maintaining  that  the  Bible  is  authoritative  because 
true,  and  not  true  because  authoritative. 

With  these  conclusions,  at  which  many  enlightened 
Protestants  in  our  day  have  arrived  in  regard  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, I  agree  in  the  main.  The  doctrine  which  they  hold 
in  commo^n  with  the  Reformers,  the  doctrine  that  the  Scrip- 
tures are  authoritative  because  true,  I  heartily  accept.  The 
only  authority,  I  must  maintain,  which  we  can  attribute  to 
any  of  their  utterances  is  that  of  its  inherent  reasonableness. 
I  can  discover  no  better. 

This  proposition  seems  to  me  much  more  reasonable  than 
^the  counter-proposition  of  the  advocates  of  the  Bible's  ver- 
bal infallibility.     These  theorists  assert  in  effect  that  men 
can  not  be  sure  that  light  is  light,  until  some  one  armed 
with  authority  tells  them  that  it  is  so  :  that  they  can  not 
know  that  truth  is  truth  until  the  speaker  of  it  is  accredited 
by  signs  from  heaven.     Such  an  assertion,  whatever  sem- 
blanc'e  of  humility  it  may  wear,  is  really  dishonoring  to 
God.     Those  who  accept  it  pour  contempt  upon  their  Maker, 
by  refusing  to  put  forth,  on  the  highest  and  grandest  sub- 
jects, the  powers  which  He  has  conferred  upon  them  for 
the   discernment  of    truth.     The   human    faculties,   I   am 
aware,  are  finite,  and  fallible  as  well  as  finite.     Still,  limited 
though  these  faculties  are,  and  liable  to  error,  they  are  the 
only  Instruments  by  which  men  can  grapple  with  knowledge 
and  make  it  their  ovm.     In  refusing  to  apply  them  to  the 
grandest  of  all  questions  which  can  occupy  the  attention, 
they  virtually  express  their  disbelief  in  any  Divine  illumina- 
tion granted  to  all  sincere  seekers  for  the  truth.     They  have 
placed  themselves,  they  say,  under  the  guidance  of  the  in- 
spired penmen.     But  their  belief  in  the  inspiration  of  the 
sacred  writers  rests  not  on  the  inherent  reasonableness  of 


190  AUTHORITY.  [sermon  xi. 

the  statements  they  make,  but  on  the  authority  of  some 
ancient  doctor  of  the  Church,  who  assures  them  that  the 
books  which  bear  the  names  of  lawgivers,  and  apostles,  and 
prophets,  are  entitled  to  a  place  in  the  sacred  canon.  This, 
I  hold,  is  to  abandon  the  Protestant  position.  It  is  to  ac- 
knowledge the  authority  of  our  fellow-men  speaking  with- 
out, as  superior  to  that  of  reason  and  conscience  speaking 
within.  It  is  to  call  some  other  than  God  father,  some  other 
than  Christ  master. 

There  are  many  departments  of  knowledge  on  which  we 
must  to  a  considerable  extent  be  dependent,  provisionally 
at  least,  on  our  fellow-men  for  our  opinions.  In  regard  to 
theology,  however,  the  case  is  different.  It  suggests  ques- 
tions which  none  can  be  content  to  answer  at  second-hand, 
without  damage  to  their  spiritual  life — which  none  can  suc- 
ceed in  answering  at  first-hand,  without  manifest  advantage 
to  their  spiritual  life.  What  is  the  chief  end  of  man  ? 
What  is  God  ?  How  does  God  enable  man  to  attain  the 
true  end  of  his  being  ?  These  are  questions  which  serious- 
minded  men  and  women  can  not  allow  theological  experts 
to  answer  for  them.  They  can  not  lazily  accept,  as  their 
replies  to  them,  the  replies  which  have  been  made  by  an 
Athanasius,  an  Augustine,  a  Calvin,  nor  even  those  which 
have  been  made  by  the  evangelists  who  profess  to  report 
the  words  of  Christ,  nor  by  a  man  of  such  profound  spirit- 
ual insight  as  Paul.  Help  they  may  get  from  prophets  and 
apostles,  from  ancient  saints  and  doctors,  from  the  divines 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  from  the  theologians  and  philoso- 
phers of  the  nineteenth,  in  their  attempts  to  answer  the 
questions  enumerated  above.  It  is  sheerest  folly  to  reject 
their  assistance,  or  to  treat  with  contempt  the  conclusions 
at  which  the  great  and  good,  the  devout  and  thoughtful, 
have  ai'rived  on  the  greatest  of  all  subjects.  Still,  serious- 
minded  men  and  women  can  not  accept,  in  any  blind  and 
unintelligent  submission  to  the  authority  of  celebrated,  or 


m'farlan.]  AUTIIOniTT.  19] 

even  of  sacred  names,  the  answers  which  have  been  made 
to  the  great  questions  in  theology.  They  must  work  out 
its  problems,  which  are  the  problems  of  life,  for  themselves. 
They  must  prove  all  things  for  themselves,  grappling  with 
the  difficulties  which  modern  speculation  suggests,  and  with 
those  sorer  difficulties  which  are  raised  by  their  own  expe- 
riences of  suffering  and  sorrow,  of  the  evil  which  is  within 
them  and  around  them.  Not,  it  may  be,  till  after  long 
struggle  with  these  difficulties  shall  those  who  engage  in 
the  intellectual  and  spiritual  warfare  of  our  age  be  able  to 
answer  the  all-important  problems  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
or  to  give  any  adequate  account  to  themselves  of  the  mean- 
ing of  their  lives  in  this  strange  world.  They  shall,  how- 
ever, through  toil  and  storm,  reach  at  length  the  serener 
air.  They  shall  come  at  last,  through  the  conflict  with 
doubt,  to  call  something  like  a  faith  their  own.  The  cer- 
tainties of  that  faith  may  be  few,  but  they  are  sufficient  to 
form  a  working  theory  of  life,  and  they  are  more  helpful 
than  the  most  minute  and  elaborate  creed  taken  up  at  sec- 
ond-hand. 

But  is  it  not  dangerous,  some  one  asks,  to  abandon  the 
theory  of  verbal  inspiration,  and  to  deny  the  existence  of 
any  authority  superior  to  the  reason  and  conscience  of  man  ? 
There  can  be  no  real  danger,  the  genuine  Protestant  replies, 
^  following  truth  whithersoever  it  may  lead  us  ;  and,  if 
there  be  no  authority  in  which  men  can  more  implicitly 
trust  than  the  christianly-enlightened  conscience,  it  is  well 
that  they  should  recognize  the  fact.  After  all,  the  coura- 
geous Protestant  goes  on  to  urge,  men  need  not  be  under 
any  alarm  because  they  are  forced  to  abandon  the  notion  of 
a  verbally  infallible  Bible.  To  simple  and  devout  souls  the 
Bible  will  still  be  the  Book  of  Life,  whatever  theory  in 
regard  to  its  inspiration  the  thoughtful  and  the  cultured 
may  adopt.  From  its  higher  teachings  they  will  continue 
to  receive  counsel  and  consolation,  guidance  amid  the  per- 


192  -4  VTHORITY.  [sermon  xi. 

plexities  of  their  daily  life,  and  strength  to  bear  its  trials. 
The  divine  element  in  it  will  now,  as  heretofore,  quicken 
their  spiritual  life.     The  human  element  in  it,  with  its  ad- 
mixture of  error,  will  probably  cause  them  less  and  less  of 
pain  and  disturbance,  the  more  completely  they  are  enabled 
to  free  themselves  from  the  superstitious  conception  of  ple- 
nary inspiration.     To  men  of  mind  less  simple  than  those 
referred  to  above,  to  men  who  from  natural  temperament 
crave  for  systematic  completeness  in  their  views,  the  de- 
struction of  the  doctrine  of  verbal  infallibility  may  prove  a 
rude  shock.     That  shock  may  prostrate  them.     They  may 
lose  in  consequence  of  it  all  intellectual  nerve,  so  to  speak. 
Unable  any  longer  to  feel  themselves  in  possession  of  fixed 
opinions  on  many  matters  about  which  men  naturally  desire 
to  be  certain,  they  may  grow  morbidly  impatient.     In  their 
impatience  they  may  betake  themselves  not  improbably  to 
Rome,  and  become  the  slaves  of  its  spiritual  despotism. 
This  conduct  is  not  unnatural  in  men  of  their  peculiar  in- 
tellectual temperament,  but  it  is  unmanly.     It  is  a  cowardly 
abandonment  of  the  field  on  which  the  good  fight  of  faith 
is  fought.     Men  of  firmer  intellectual  fiber,  who  feel  that 
with  the  demolition  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible's  verbal  in- 
fallibility the  entire  theological  system  which  had  seemed 
to  them  an  intellectual  home  and  place  of  safety  is  reduced 
to  ruin,  adopt  a  different  course.     They  accept  the  new 
position.     Driven  from  the  dogmatic  structure  which  had 
sheltered  them  so  long,  they  throw  up  an  earthwork  of  per- 
sonal conviction  to  screen  them  from  the  assaults  of  that 
practical  atheism  which  is  deadly  to  the  soul.     Of  the  two 
courses,  that  of  the  pervert  to  Catholicism,  and  that  of  the 
man  who  is  resolved  to  have  no  theology  which  he  can  not 
base  on  personal  conviction,  the  latter  is  the  nobler  and  the 
manlier.      It  is  the  safer  one,  too,  for  that  matter.     It  is 
better  for  all  who  have  in  them  any  capacity  for  a  lofty 
intellectual  and  spiritual  life  to  be  out  in  the  open,  than  to 


M'FARLAlf.J  AUTHORITY.  ]93 

be  confined  within  the  dogmatic  fortresses,  whicli  are  in 
fact  prison-houses,  dungeons  of  the  soul.  Let  them  stand 
fast  behind  their  temporary  shelter,  and,  having  done  all, 
let  them  stand.  They  shall  be  enabled  to  advance  ere  long 
to  a  stronger  position,  which  is  still  one  which  a  freeman 
need  not  be  ashamed  to  occupy.  Meanwhile  let  them  stand 
— let  them  cleave  to  whatever  convictions  they  may  have 
made  really  their  own,  should  they  be  only  these — that 
righteousness  is  blessedness,  that  integrity  is  worth  retain- 
ing, that  there  are  things  pure,  just,  honest,  lovely,  which 
a  man  should  think  of  and  follow  after.  To  those  who 
cleave  to  these  simple  convictions,  others  will  be  added. 
They  shall  find  these  words  true  in  their  experience  :  "  If 
any  man  will  do  the  will  of  God,  he  shall  know  of  the  doc- 
trine whether  it  be  of  God."  They  shall  discover  for  them 
selves  that  there  is  a  Divine  authority  in  Christ's  doctrine, 
that  man  has  a  Father  in  heaven,  who  is  righteous  with  a 
righteousness  which  He  intends  to  be  theirs — who  is  seek- 
ing to  make  them  righteous  with  that  righteousness — per- 
fect as  He  is  perfect.  To  those  whose  appetite  for  dogma 
is  large,  this  creed  may  seem  meager  and  unsatisfying.  It 
is  more  genuine  and  more  serviceable,  however,  than  that 
of  those  who  accept,  in  submission  to  the  authority  avow- 
edly of  their  Church,  or  professedly  of  their  Bible,  all  the 
decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  or  all  the  articles  of  the 
Assembly  of  Westminster.  It  is  the  creed  of  one  who  can 
say  with  the  old  Hebrew  seer  and  poet,  "  I  have  heard  of 
Thee  with  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  but  now  mine  eye  secth 
Thee."  It  is  the  creed,  consequently,  of  a  man  whose 
Protestantism  has  in  it  a  genuine  intellectual  and  spiritual 

life. 

9 


194  TEE  THINGS   WEIGH  [sermon  xn. 


XII. 

THE  THINGS  WHICH  CAN  NOT  BE  SHAKEN. 

BY    THE   REV.    W.  L.  M'fARLAN,  LENZIE. 

"  That  those  things  which  can  not  be  shaken  may  remain." 

Heb.  xii,  27. 

That  the  old  theologies  are  being  shaken  by  the  new 
sciences  is  a  fact  which  is  patent  to  the  most  superficial 
observation.  The  assaults  which  are  made  by  the  students 
of  the  sciences,  natural  and  biblical,  upon  the  dogmatic 
theology  of  the  past,  are  dealt  with  in  different  ways  by 
observers  of  different  classes.  They  are  angrily  denounced 
by  one  class  as  the  wanton  attacks  of  the  wicked  upon  the 
religion  of  Christ.  They  are  soberly  welcomed  by  another 
as  instrumentalities,  somewhat  rough  in  their  operation,  by 
which  the  religion  of  Christ  is  being  purified  from  the  cor- 
ruptions which  have  attached  themselves  to  it.  They  are 
enthusiastically  hailed  by  a  third  as  agencies  which  will 
effect  the  destruction  of  the  religion  of  Christ,  viewed  by 
them  as  an  obsolete  superstition.  What  the  position  is, 
which  is  occupied  by  observers  of  the  second  or  middle 
class,  I  shall  endeavor  in  the  present  discourse  to  define. 
This  class  includes  within  it  many  of  the  religious  teachers 
in  all  the  Churches.  To  what  extent,  we  have  to  inquire, 
do  such  reliorious  teachers  admit  that  the  old  beliefs  in  which 
they  were  indoctrinated  are  endangered  by  the  new  theories 
which,  it  is  alleged,  must  supersede  them  entirely  ?  They 
admit,  I  may  venture  to  reply  for  them,  that,  in  so  far  as 


M'FARLAJf.J  CAN  NOT  BE  SHAKEN.  195 

these  beliefs  were  embodied  in  the  dogmas  of  scholastic 
theology,  the)^  must  be  abandoned  or  greatly  modified.  The 
sections  of  that  theology  which  treat  of  sin  and  salvation 
they  regard  as  specially  untenable.  These  sections  compre- 
hend the  following  dogmas  :  (1)  the  descent  of  man  from 
the  Adam  of  the  Book  of  Genesis  ;  (2)  the  fall  of  that 
Adam,  from  a  state  of  original  righteousness,  by  eating  the 
forbidden  fruit  ;  (3)  the  imputation  of  Adam's  guilt  to  all 
bis  posterity  ;  (4)  the  consequent  death  of  all  men  in  sin  ; 
(5)  the  redemption  in  Christ  of  an  election  according  to 
grace  ;  (6)  the  quickening  in  the  elect  of  a  new  life — {a)  at 
their  baptism.  Catholics  affirm— (J)  at  the  moment  of  their 
conversion,  most  Protestants  allege  ;  (7)  the  eternal  pun- 
ishment and  perdition  of  those  who  remain  unregen^rate. 
These  sections  of  the  traditional  theology  of  Christendom 
— originally  elaborated  by  Augustine,  amended  and  devel- 
oped by  the  schoolmen  of  the  middle  ages,  adopted  whole- 
sale by  the  Puritans — dominated  the  Christian  intellect  for 
centuries.  They  have  ceased  to  dominate  it.  They  no 
longer  press  on  the  minds  and  spirits  of  men  like  an  incubus. 
At  the  Reformation,  the  whole  of  the  mighty  theological 
fabric  which  the  subtilty  of  the  schoolmen  had  reared  be- 
gan to  be  subjected  to  a  process  of  disintegration  as  it  were, 
a  trace  of  which  may  be  detected  in  the  Protestant  modifi- 
cation of  the  Catholic  doctrine  in  regard  to  the  moment  at 
which  regeneration  takes  place,  to  which  allusion  has  been 
made  above.  Ever  since  the  Reformation,  the  spu'it  of  free 
inquiry  has  been  destroying,  bit  by  bit,  the  structure  of 
scholastic  theology.  During  the  last  quarter  of  a  century 
she  has  been  attacking  it  with  hands  more  than  ever  bold 
and  busy.  In  consequence  of  her  attacks  the  ancient  struc- 
ture is  now  apparently  tottering  to  its  fall.  It  is  no  longer, 
at  all  events,  an  impregnable  dungeon  fortress  of  the  mind, 
a  kind  of  spiritual  Bastile,  so  to  speak,  in  which  the  Chris- 
tian intellect  is  hopelessly  immured.    With  comparative  ease 


196  THE  THINGS   WHICH  [sermon  xii. 

men  can  break  that  hoary  prison-house,  and  find  the  liberty 
which  they  crave,  to  interpret  Scripture  for  themselves,  to 
think  for  themselves.  We  observe,  accordingly,  that  con- 
clusions of  the  school  divines,  which  the  Reformers  did  not 
venture  to  question,  are  denied  outright  by  the  leaders  of 
modern  theological  thought,  and  that  many  Protestants  of 
the  nineteenth  century  reject  theological  dogmas  of  theirs, 
which  almost  all  Protestants  of  the  sixteenth  century  un- 
hesitatingly accepted. 

Among  the  discredited  dogmas  of  the  schoolmen,  those 
in  regard  to  the  origin  and  the  nature  of  human  sinfulness 
have,  as  has  been  already  stated,  a  foremost  place.  Vari- 
ous causes  are  conducing  to  the  rejection  of  those  ancient 
ecclesiastical  beliefs.  It  seems,  in  the  first  place,  to  an 
increasing  number  of  intelligent  persons,  that  Science  has 
established  her  right  to  claim  for  man  an  antiquity  so  great 
as  to  be  wholly  incompatible  with  the  scriptural  account  of 
a  first  progenitor  of  the  human  race,  who  was  created,  and 
who  sinned  and  fell,  some  six  thousand  years  previous  to 
the  present  date.  It  seems  to  them,  in  the  second  place, 
that  all  investigations  into  the  condition  of  man  during 
these  millenniums,  many  more  than  six,  throughout  which 
the  human  race  has  occupied  the  earth  and  left  vestiges  of 
its  occupancy,  prove  that  the  path  trodden  by  mankind  has 
been  one  upward  and  not  downward  ;  disprove,  in  other 
words,  the  doctrine  that  the  race  has  lapsed  from  a  state  of 
paradisaic  innocence,  of  primeval  wisdom  and  integrity,  such 
as  that  which  Jewish  Rabbis,  and  after  them  doctors  of  the 
primitive  Church,  mediaeval  schoolmen,  Puritan  divines, 
have  imagined.  Independently,  however,  of  all  scientific 
conjectures  as  to  the  origin  of  the  human  race,  as  to  the 
condition  of  prehistoric  man,  as  to  the  progress  of  mankind 
through  successive  stages  of  intellectual  and  moral  growth, 
the  old  theological  doctrine  of  the  fall  of  Adam,  and  the 
consequent  death  in  sin  of  all  his  posterity,  seems,  in  these 


m'farlan.J  can  not  BE  SHAKEN.  197 

days,  to  many  men  and  women  of  cultivated  intelligence, 
untenable.  The  spread  of  democratic  ideas  has  rendered 
impossible  for  them  the  belief  in  hereditary  demerit  any 
more  than  in  hereditary  merit.  They  admit  of  course  the 
hereditary  transmission,  from  generation  to  generation,  of 
habits,  aptitudes  for  good  or  evil,  qualities  intellectual  and 
moral  no  less  than  physical.  They  deny,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  hereditary  transmission  of  guilt  or  blameworthiness, 
the  imputation  to  the  son  of  the  sin  of  the  father.  They 
refuse  to  believe  that  the  Infinite  Being  of  whom  we  speak 
as  the  Moral  Governor  of  the  universe  has  dealt  with  the 
successive  generations  of  men  as  earthly  sovereigns  have 
with  the  children  of  rebels,  whom,  in  obedience  to  a  politi- 
cal exigency,  real  or  imaginary,  they  have  condemned  to  per- 
petual poverty  and  disgrace.  They  reject  the  proposition 
that  the  non-elect  will,  because  of  Adam's  transgression, 
be  punished  with  "  the  everlasting  punishment  of  eternal 
fire."  They  hold  with  the  old  Hebrew  prophet,  as  against 
the  scholastic  divine,  that,  under  his  government* whose 
"  ways  are  equal,"  "  the  son  shall  not  bear  the  iniquity  of 
the  father."  Their  deepening  conviction  as  to  the  perfect 
goodness  of  the  Almighty,  as  well  as  their  belief  in  the  in- 
dependent, personal,  non-hereditary  relation  of  each  human 
spirit  to  the  Father  of  Spirits,  compels  persons,  of  minds 
devout  as  well  as  cultivated,  to  reject  the  scholastic  doc- 
trine of  the  imputation  of  the  sin  of  Adam  to  all  his  poster- 
ity. The  Divine  Spirit,  such  persons  hold,  has  abandoned 
no  human  spirit  to  endless  and  hopeless  depravity,  has  not 
suffered  the  human  race,  or  any  portion  of  it,  to  enter  on  a 
career  that  is  ceaselessly  and  inevitably  downward.  The 
Maker  of  men,  they  believe,  has  implanted  in  all  men  the 
consciousness  of  imperfection  and  shortcoming,  the  sense  of 
sin,  which  impels  them  to  long  and  strive  for  better  things. 
He  has  thus  been  securing  for  the  race,  as  a  whole,  moral 
progress  from  age  to  age.     He  thus  gives  to  us,  concerning 


198  THE  THINGS   WHICH  [sermon  xn. 

those  individuals  of  the  race  even  whose  lives  here  have 
seemed  to  end  in  failure,  the  hope  of  improvement  here- 
after. 

The  prevalent  scientific  beliefs,  it  thus  appears,  in  re- 
gard to  the  antiquity  of  man,  and  the  moral  and  intellect- 
ual development  of  the  race,  combined  with  the  growth  of 
the  democratic  spii-it,  and  the  spread  of  what  may  be  named 
humaner  conceptions  in  regard  to  the  Divine  character  and 
the  method  of  the  Divine  government  of  the  world,  have 
rendered  the  dogmas  of  scholastic  theology  concerning  the 
nature  and  the  origin  of  human  sin  incredible  to  many 
minds. 

Those  who  thus  feel  themselves  constrained  to  reject  the 
scholastic  dogmas  in  regard  to  sin  can  not,  it  is  plain,  ac- 
cept those  corollaries  from  them  which,  together,  make  up 
the  scholastic  doctrine  in  regard  to  salvation.  They  recog- 
nize the  truth  which  is  in  these  doctrines,  in  so  far  as  they 
assert  the  unconditional  freedom  of  the  Divine  grace,  or,  in 
other  words,  the  Divine  readiness  to  forgive  and  restore 
the  sinner.  They  believe  in  what  has  been  called  the  om- 
nipotence of  repentance.  They  hold  that,  while  the  evil 
consequences  of  a  man's  evil  deeds  dog  his  footsteps  to  his 
dying  day,  there  are  yet  ever  open  to  the  greatest  sinner 
the  possibilities  of  entrance  on  a  new  and  nobler  life.  They 
assert,  with  Paul,  that  "  the  goodness  of  God  is  leading  the 
sinner  to  repentance."  They  use  language  of  his  still  more 
evangelical  in  its  ring,  and  maintain  that  "  God  is  in  Christ 
reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  unto  men 
their  trespasses,"  not  making,  that  is,  the  sins  that  are  past 
obstacles  to  his  mercy,  but  causing  his  grace  to  superabound 
over  our  many  offenses. 

But  Avhile  the  modern  theologians  whose  views  I  am  en- 
deavoring to  expound  thus  use  evangelical  language,  and 
recognize  a  certain  amount  of  truth  in  those  scholastic  dog- 
mas concerning  redemption  which  are  popularly  known  as 


m'farlan.]  can  not  be  SHAKEN.  199 

the  Gospel,  they  reject  these  dogmas  when  they  are  pre- 
sented to  them  in  scientific  form  and  systematic  complete- 
ness, as  constituting  what  is  called  "the  scheme  of  salva- 
tion." They  decline  to  believe  that  there  is  unveracity  in 
the  Divine  dealings  with  man,  or  that  God  can  count  men 
righteous  on  any  other  ground  than  that  of  the  sincerity  of 
their  repentance,  and  the  reality  of  their  endeavors  after 
new  obedience.  Christ,  they  hold,  has  died  that  men  might 
thus  die  with  him,  and  live  again.  The  scholastic  notion, 
however,  that  his  sufferings  constitute  the  exact  arithmeti- 
cal equivalent  of  the  penalties  incurred  by  the  elect  for 
their  sins,  they  reject  as  formal,  unreal,  un verifiable.  The 
whole  of  that  latest  development  of  theological  scholasti- 
cism, the  Dutch  covenant  theology,  with  its  solemn  bar- 
gainings between  God  and  Adam,  between  God  the  Father 
and  God  the  Son,  they  regard  as  a  fashion  as  quaint  and 
artificial  as  the  Dutch  landscape-gardening  which  along 
with  it  came  into  vogue  in  the  British  Islands. 

It  is  in  vain  to  insist  with  those  who,  while  they  retain, 
they  believe,  a  genuine  Christian  faith,  are  yet  not  unsensi- 
tive  to  the  influences  of  the  modern  scientific  spirit,  that 
those  doctrines  which  they  are  willing  to  abandon  are  de- 
rived from  the  teachings  of  Paul.  They  admit  that  Paul 
does  seem  to  countenance  those  doctrines  of  substitution 
and  imputation  which  they  reject.  But  from  Paul  rabbin- 
izing,  they  appeal  to  Paul  speaking  out  of  the  depths  of  his 
profound  spiritual  insight.  Does  Paul  speak  of  the  redemp- 
tion which  there  is  in  Christ  ?  He  there  uses  a  figure, 
which,  they  assert,  is  derived  from  the  Levitical  legislation 
in  regard  to  bondmen.  This  simile,  however,  they  insist, 
must  not  be  made  to  run  upon  all-fours.  Even  where  Paul's 
simile  is  most  elaborately  developed  by  him,  the  systematic 
divine  is  scarcely  warranted,  his  opponents  maintain,  in  as- 
serting that  the  Pauline  doctrine  of  redemption  implies 
persons   bought  back — sinners  ;    a  person  buying  back — 


200  THE  THINGS   WHICH  [sebmon  xii. 

God  the  Son  ;  a  person  to  whom  a  price  is  paid — God  the 
Father ;  the  price  paid — the  penal  sufferings  of  Christ  in 
the  room  of  the  elect.  Does  Paul,  again,  speak  of  Christ's 
sufferings  as  sacrificial  ?  Again  he  uses  a  figure  derived 
from  Levitical  legislation  ;  but  his  use  of  it,  the  modern 
theologian  asserts,  does  not  entitle  the  systematic  divine  to 
formulate  that  doctrine  of  an  arithmetical  atonement  which 
he  rejects.  Paul's  central  and  vital  doctrines,  the  modern 
theologian  maintains,  were  not  those  of  substitution  and 
imputation,  however  easy  it  may  be  to  find  for  them  a 
plausible  support  in  isolated  sayings  of  his.  His  central 
and  vital  doctrine  was  :  Die,  that  you  may  live  indeed. 
Christ  died  for  you,  but  only  that  you  might  die  with  him, 
to  your  lower  and  worser  selves,  only  that  you  might  find 
joy  in  mortifying  your  members  that  are  upon  the  earth. 
By  his  cross  your  affections  and  lusts  are  to  be  crucified. 
By  his  cross  you  yourselves  are  to  be  crucified  to  all  that  is 
low  and  evil.  Through  entering  into  the  fellowshij)  of  his 
suffering,  you  are  to  learn  that  in  dying  to  self  and  living 
for  others  you  find  truest  blessedness. 

This  doctrine,  that  righteousness  is  blessedness,  which 
Paul  is  fond  of  stating  in  a  somewhat  paradoxical  form, 
insisting  chiefly  on  the  blessedness  of  righteousness  on  that 
which  may  be  named  its  negative  side — repentance  and  self- 
renunciation,  the  dying  to  our  worser  selves — is  the  state- 
ment of  a  fact  verifiable  in  human  experience.  It  embodies 
a  truth  which  has  been  recognized  by  religious  minds  in  all 
ages.  That  truth  had  dimly  dawned  on  the  first  son  of 
Israel's  race  M^ho  perceived  that  the  power  working  in  the 
world  without  him  was  the  same  with  that  power  within, 
whose  voice  he  heard  bidding  him  do  right.  It  was  more 
clearly  realized  by  the  higher  minds  of  Israel  in  each  suc- 
ceeding generation,  as  Israel's  religious  life  grew  in  purity 
and  in  intensity.  It  was  a  conviction  which  inspired  and 
stimulated  the  later  prophets  of  Israel,  strengthening  them 


m'farlan.J  can  not  BE  SHAKEN.  201 

• 

for  their  work,  finding  expression  in  their  noblest  utter- 
ances.    It  was,  we  may  say,  the  central  truth  in  the  teach- 
ing of  Jesus.     Any  expressions  which  were  given  to  it  pre- 
vious to  Christ's  day  were,  it  may  be  affirmed,  anticipations 
of  his  teaching  comparatively  hesitating.     The  kingdom  of 
which  the  earliest  discourses  of  Jesus  were  the  annunciation 
was  the  "kingdom  which  is  within  each  heart  that  is  swayed 
and  influenced  by  those  conceptions  of  the  pure,  the  just, 
the  honorable,  the  lovely  in  character,  which  by  him  were 
introduced  into  the  world.     In  so  far  as  the  divine  kingdom 
was  an  outward  thing  at  all,  it  was  the  society  of  those  who 
were  striving  after  the  realization  of  that  ideal  righteous- 
ness which  Christ  set  before  men  as  the  mark  of  the  prize 
of  their  high  calling.     In  his  parables  He  describes  the  na- 
ture of  that  kingdom  which  is  peace  and  joy  in  the  spirit, 
because  it  is  righteousness  of  the  spirit ;  and  points  out  the 
conditions  of  entrance  into  it,  the  helps  and  the  hindrances 
to  its  development  in  individual  souls  and  in  society.     He 
begins  his  Sermon  on  the  Mount  by  an  express  proclama- 
tion, we  may  say,  of  the  truth  that  righteousness  is  blessed- 
ness, which,  it  is  my  endeavor  at  present  to  prove  to  you, 
is  one  of  the  things  which  can  not  be  shaken.     On  each  of 
the  dispositions  which  go  to  make  up  righteousness  in  the 
largest  sense  of  the  term.  He  pronounces  a  special  benedic- 
tion.    Meekness,  mercifulness,  purity  of  heart — each  has  its 
attendant  beatitude.     The  very  desire  to  possess  these  and 
kindred  virtues  insures  blessedness,  nay,  is  blessedness  :  for 
those  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness  are  blessed 
in  the  satisfaction  of   their  spiritual  cravings.     And  this 
manifold  blessedness,  promised  to  righteousness,  in  its  mul- 
tiform manifestations  is  independent  of  the  outward  circum- 
stances in  which  men's  lives  are  spent.     Poverty  does  not 
deprive  them  of  it.     On  the  poor,  indeed,  a  special  bene- 
diction is  pronounced.     Sorrow  does  not  exclude  it  from 
the   heart,  for   sorrow  has   its   divine  compensations  and 


202  TEE  THINGS   WHICH  [seemon  xii. 

brings  its  special  blessings.  The  persecutor  can  not  steal  it 
from  his  victims  by  his  calumnies.  No  tortures  which  his 
malignity  can  invent  will  rob  them  of  it.  It  is  theirs  in 
the  most  loathsome  dungeon  in  which  he  can  confine  them. 
Through  the  flames  of  the  stake,  or  the  prolonged  agonies 
of  the  cross,  on  its  ampler  enjoyment  they  enter.  Through- 
out the  whole  of  the  sermon  which  thus  begins,  the  truth 
that  righteousness  is  blessedness  of  the  inward  sort  runs 
like  a  thread  of  gold.  Those  who  are  forgiving,  it  teaches, 
are  blessed  in  the  sense  of  the  Divine  forgiveness.  On  the 
life  which  is  that  of  unostentatious  self-restraint,  devout- 
ness,  charity,  the  Divine  approval  rests.  Those  who  live 
such  lives  in  secret,  their  Father,  which  seeth  in  secret,  re- 
wards openly,  blessing  them  not  merely  with  his  peace, 
which  passeth  all  understanding,  but  giving  them  also  a 
hold  on  the  affections,  and  an  influence  over  the  characters 
of  others,  which  become  fully  apparent,  perhaps,  only  when 
they  have  passed  into  the  silent  land,  and  can  hear  no  more 
the  voices  that  praise  or  blame.  All,  again,  Christ  teaches 
in  his  Divine  discourse,  who  come  to  him  unharassed  by  the 
carking  cares  of  earth,  are  blessed  in  the  consciousness  that 
their  Father  in  heaven,  who  feeds  the  ravens  and  clothes 
the  lilies  with  beauty,  cares  for  them  and  provides  for  all 
their  wants.  Those,  once  more.  He  teaches  elsewhere,  who 
rise  superior  to  the  ambition  which  sets  great  store  by  the 
petty  distinctions  of  earth,  make  themselves  greatest  of  all 
by  being  servants  of  all,  and  realize  that  they  are  in  his  fel- 
lowship who  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister. 
This  doctrine,  that  righteousness  is  blessedness,  which 
the  prophets  taught  in  anticipation,  and  Paul  in  reenforce- 
ment,  of  the  teaching  of  Christ,  is  that  by  faith  in  which 
the  just  in  all  ages  have  lived.  No  misunderstandings  of 
the  teaching  of  Paul,  into  which  the  Catholic  Church,  and 
still  more  remarkably  the  Protestant  Churches  have  fallen, 
have  prevented  devout  souls  from  apprehending  that  truth. 


m'farlan.]  can  not  be  SHAKEN.  203 

and  feeding  upon  it  in  theii'  hearts.  They  may  not  have 
avowedly  rejected  the  doctrines  by  which  Paul's  teaching 
has  been  so  strangely  perverted  ;  but  those  doctrines  have 
not  entered  into  their  souls  so  as  to  poison  their  spiritual 
life.  It  is  upon  souls  whose  piety  is  of  the  formal  and  con- 
ventional type  that  the  Solifidian  doctrine,  by  which  Paul 
is  misrepresented,  has  had  its  most  mischievous  effect.  Into 
the  latter  it  has  entered  as  the  leaven  of  Antinomianism, 
which  has  been  the  bane  of  the  Puritan  sects.  To  the 
former  it  has  proved  almost  innocuous.  The  belief  to  which 
their  hearts  cling,  whatever  may  be  the  doctrine  which 
their  tongues  confess,  is  that  Christ  died,  not  to  save  them 
from  dying,  but  to  enable  them  to  die  with  him  to  every- 
thing that  is  evil.  To  this  belief  the  gifted  among  them  in 
all  ages  have  given  utterance  in  their  spiritual  songs  and 
their  books  of  devotion.  Jesus  in  these  utterances  of  saints. 
Catholic  and  Protestant,  is  not  their  substitute,  doing  a 
work  for  them,  and  outside  of  them  ;  He  is  the  source  of 
that  life  within  which  is  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost.  In  the  well-known  Hymn  of  St.  Ber- 
nard, He  is  addressed  as  the  fount  of  life,  the  light  of  men, 
the  imparter  of  that  bliss  which  is  beyond  compare,  who 
makes  all  our  moments  calm  and  bright  by  delivering  us 
from  sin's  Tinrest  and  darkness.  Of  that  great  monument 
of  mediaeval  piety,  the  "  Imitation  of  Christ,"  we  may  say 
that  the  foundation  and  chief  corner-stone  is  that  saying  of 
Paul's — Die  with  Christ,  that  you  may  live  indeed.  Wil- 
liam Law,  in  a  book  whose  singular  charm  of  style  makes  it 
attractive  even  to  those  who  have  but  little  sympathy  with 
its  fervid  piety,  enforces  the  same  truth.  The  teaching  of 
his  "Serious  Call  to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life"  may  be 
summed  up  in  the  sentence  :  Salvation  is  the  abandonment 
of  the  worldly,  self-indulgent,  careless  life  which  we  are  all 
so  apt  to  live,  and  the  entrance  on  a  life  which  is  animated 
by  a  sincere  intention  to  attain  to  a  Christ-like  purity  and 


204  THE  THINGS   WHICH  fsEEMON  xii, 

devotedness,  and  the  earnest  effort  to  make  that  intention 
good. 

All,  I  believe,  whose  lives  have  been  characterized  by- 
moral  earnestness,  are  prepared  to  endorse  these  utterances 
of  the  gifted.  There  have  been  in  their  lives,  they  admit, 
no  hours  more  blessed  than  those  in  which  they  have  fought 
and  conquered  some  bosom  sin — than  those  even  in  which, 
in  the  familiar  language  of  the  Catechism,  they  have  turned 
from  sins  which  had  overmastered  them  "  with  grief  and 
hatred  of  them,  and  full  purpose  of,  and  endeavor  after, 
new  obedience."  Through  that  death  to  sin  which  repent- 
ance is,  they  have  entered  upon  a  new  life  ;  and  all  life 
which  is  fresh  and  vivid  is  full  of  joy.  Again,  when  their 
existence  has  been  stirred  by  no  special  conflict,  when  it  has 
been  that  simply  of  patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  they 
have  been  possessors,  they  feel,  of  a  peace  all  unknown  to 
them  while  they  lived  a  careless  life,  unsteadied  by  prin- 
ciple. They  have  taken  then  Christ's  yoke,  and  borne  his 
burden  of  pious  conformity  to  the  Divine  will ;  and  they 
have  his  rest  to  their  souls. 

That  righteousness  is  blessedness  is,  it  thus  appears,  a 
truth  verifiable  by  what  may  be  called  a  universal  human 
experience.  It  is  thus  plainly  one  of  the  things  that  can 
not  be  shaken.  It  does  not,  like  those  propositions  of  scho- 
lastic theology  with  which  I  have  contrasted  it,  involve  a 
belief  in  any  opinions  as  to  the  age  of  the  world,  as  to  the 
antiquity  of  man,  as  to  the  origin  of  sin,  which  science 
may  demonstrate  to  be  false.  Our  acceptance  of  it  does 
not  depend  upon  our  submission  to  the  authority  of  any 
teacher  or  of  any  book.  It  is  unaffected,  therefore,  by  the 
discoveries  of  the  Biblical  critic  as  to  the  date  or  the  au- 
thorship of  the  books  which  make  up  the  Bible,  or  as  to 
the  manner  in  which  they  have  been  put  in  their  present 
shape.  It  is  unaffected  also  by  his  refusal  to  concede  to 
the  Bible  any  other  authority  than  that  which  he  recognizes 


m'farlan.]  can  not  be  SHAKEN.  205 

in  the  truth  of  its  utterances,  and  their  power  to  awaken 
a  response  in  the  reason  and  conscience  of  man.  Amid 
the  ruin  of  theological  systems  which  the  waves  of  inquiry, 
scientific  and  Biblical,  ingulf  or  dash  to  fragments,  it  rides 
secure  like  a  sturdy  bark  which  has  its  anchor  surely  fixed. 
Those  who  cling  to  it  can  not  finally  make  shipwreck  of 
the  faith,  long  tempest-tossed  though  they  may  be. 

From  this  simple  verity,  that  righteousness  is  blessed- 
ness, others  may  be  deduced  which,  too,  are  among  the 
things  that  can  not  be  shaken.  Foremost  among  these  I 
place  the  truth  that  there  is  a  Divine  Being,  and  that  this 
Being  is  seeking  to  make  us  sharers  in  his  righteousness 
and  in  his  blessedness.  Many  of  the  conceptions  of  the 
school  divines  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  God,  like  many 
of  their  conceptions  in  regard  to  his  work  in  the  salva- 
tion of  the  elect,  have  ceased  to  commend  themselves  to 
thoughtful  and  devout  minds  in  these  days.  There  are 
many  among  us  who  are  unable  any  longer  to  think  of  the 
infinite  Spirit  as  a  mechanician  divinity  who  overcomes 
difiiculty  by  ingenious  contrivance.  They  may  see  much 
of  poetic  beauty  in  the  saying  of  Kepler,  that,  in  making 
his  astronomical  discoveries,  he  was  "  thinking  the  thoughts 
of  God  after  him."  They  may  even  admit  that  the  argu- 
ment from  design,  on  which  the  divines  of  the  eighteenth 
century  laid  so  great  stress,  has  its  value.  They  may 
accept  it,  as  helpful  to  them,  in  so  far  as  it  enables,  as 
no  other  argument  does,  their  finite  intelligence  to  realize 
the  presence  in  the  universe  of  an  infinite  intelligence. 
They  can  not  accept  it,  however,  as  a  scientific  definition 
of  the  nature  of  Divine  Being  and  the  mode  of  Divine 
operation  in  the  world.  Space  and  time,  they  hold,  are 
but  forms  of  human  thought.  Of  the  Infinite  and  the  Eter- 
nal, the  substance  of  all  things — the  all-pervasive  life  of 
the  universe,  you  can  predicate,  they  assert,  neither  after 
nor  before,  but  an  eternal  now — neither  presence  in  this 


206  ^^^  TIIINOS   WHICH  [sermon  xit, 

portion  of  space  nor  in  that,  but  omnipresence.  The  con- 
ception of  this  Infinite  Being,  therefore,  as  a  kind  of  mod- 
ern Vulcan  fertile  in  resource,  presented  to  us  in  the  argu- 
ment from  design,  is  of  no  scientific  validity.  It  may  have 
its  use  as  an  expedient  of  thought.  But  when  men  deduce 
from  it,  and  formulate  as  a  scientific  proposition,  the  state- 
ment that  God  made  the  world  as  the  mechanist  makes  the 
machine,  "they  dwarf  their  conceptions  of  the  Divine  In- 
finitude." But  not  only  do  many  of  the  thoughtful  and 
the  devout  among  us  refuse  to  look  upon  the  Divine  Being 
as  the  kind  of  opifex  deus,  or  Workman-God,  given  us  in 
the  argument  from  design,  they  reject,  in  like  manner,  the 
old  conceptions  in  regard  to  creation.  They  can  not  think 
of  that  which  men  call  the  material  universe  as  a  positive 
something  produced  by  the  fiat  of  Omnipotence  out  of 
absolute  nothingness.  Such  a  conception,  they  hold,  is 
incapable  of  realization  in  thought.  The  supposition  "  that 
matter  and  spirit  are  equally  substantial  and  ultimately 
different "  seems  to  them  an  untenable  hypothesis.  They 
are  driven,  therefore,  to  the  conclusion  that  the  material 
universe  is  the  phenomenal  manifestation  of  the  only  true 
substance — of  "  Him  in  whom  all  things  consist,"  to  quote 
the  language  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Colossians.  Forasmuch 
as  they  can  only  understand  the  material  universe,  in  so  far 
as  they  do  understand  it,  in  virtue  of  the  intelligence  with 
which  they  are  endowed,  they  regard  it  as  the  expression 
of  an  Everlasting  Intelligence  —  the  embodiment  of  the 
Eternal  Reason,  ever  shifting  in  its  form,  but  eternal  as 
itself.  They  look  upon  it,  in  fact,  as  God's  ceaseless  con- 
versation with  his  creatures,  as  Bishop  Berkeley  grandly 
said.  Is  this  not  Pantheism  ?  they  are  asked.  Be  it  so, 
they  reply.  To  some  such  pantheistic  conception  of  the 
universe,  intellects  at  once  speculative  and  devout  will  be 
driven,  they  believe,  as  the  only  refuge  which  will  afford 
them  secure  shelter  from  the  assaults  of  materialistie  athe- 


m'farlan.]  can  not  be  SHAKEN.  207 

istn.  This  Pantheism,  they  further  urge,  which  seems  to 
afford  the  best  sohition  of  "  the  Mystery  of  Matter,"  is  by 
no  means,  as  its  opponents  allege,  destructive  of  moral  dis- 
tinctions. The  One  Being  "  of  whom,  and  to  whom,  and 
through  whom,  are  all  things  "  is,  it  must  be  remembered, 
in  the  view  of  the  Christian  pantheist,  the  ground  of  our 
moral  as  well  as  of  our  intellectual  and  physical  life. 
Christian  Pantheism  does  not,  therefore,  like  some  of  the 
cruder  forms  of  pantheistic  speculation,  attribute  a  moral 
indifference  to  the  Being  who  is  "  all  in  all."  It  holds,  on 
the  contrary,  that  this  Being  presents  himself  to  man  as 
the  moral  ideal — that  He  is  in  man  as  that  mysterious 
energy  which  convinces  him  of  sin,  and  urges  him  on  to 
higher  moral  attainments.  It  does  not  attempt  to  solve 
the  problem  of  the  origin  of  evil  ;  but  in  presenting  to  us 
the  hope  that  "on  the  scale  of  infinity  all  is  well,"  it  gives 
men  the  hint  of  a  solution  of  it  which  has  more  of  help 
and  comfort  than  they  find  in  the  dogmatic  replies  which 
the  adherents  of  traditionalism  make  to  the  objections 
which  the  pessimist  brings  forward  against  the  doctrine  of 
the  Divine  Benevolence. 

The  proposition  that  God  is  thus  the  Eternal  Goodness — 
the  Being  who  is  seeking  to  make  his  creatures  sharers  in 
his  blessedness,  by  making  them  sharers  in  his  righteousness 
— may  not  be,  like  the  simpler  proposition — Righteousness 
is  blessedness — the  expression  of  a  truth  verifiable  in  human 
experience.  The  former  proposition,  however,  is  deducible 
from  the  latter  by  processes  of  reasoning  which  I  believe 
are  legitimate.  The  law  of  righteousness  to  which  men  are 
constrained  to  conform  their  lives,  by  conforming  their  lives 
to  which  they  find  blessedness,  implies  a  lawgiver  who  loves 
righteousness.  Men  have  not  created  the  ideal  of  the  just 
and  the  merciful,  which  a  mysterious  energy  within  impels 
them  to  realize.  They  have  not  found  that  ideal  for  them- 
selves any  more  than  they  have  formed  it  for  themselves. 


208  ^^^  THINGS    WHICH  [sermon  xn. 

It  has  found  them  and  implanted  itself  within  them,  grow- 
ing with  their  growth,  and  strengthening  with  their  strength. 
The  Perfect  Love  has  found  them,  and  it  works  with  them 
and  in  them,  that  it  may  transform  them  into  its  likeness. 
Apart  from  the  belief  that  a  Being  higher  than  man  pre- 
sents himself  to  him  as  moral  ideal,  and  works  in  him  as 
moral  impulse,  the  moral  life  of  the  race,  its  moral  growth, 
and  that  of  the  individuals  who  compose  it,  are  inexplicable. 
We  may,  therefore,  hold  that  the  statement  that  the  Eter- 
nal Goodness  is  seeking  to  make  the  finite  creatures  which 
it  has  brought  into  being  righteous,  and  blessed  because 
righteous,  is  a  legitimate  deduction  from  the  proposition, 
verifiable,  we  have  seen,  in  human  experience,  that  right- 
eousness is  blessedness.  This  statement  is  simply  an  asser- 
tion, in  other  words,  of  the  doctrine  known  as  that  of  the 
Fatherhood  of  God.  The  doctrine,  consequently,  of  the 
Divine  Fatherhood  is  one  of  those  things  which  can  not  be 
shaken.  "Whatever  opinions  and  systems  of  opinion  may 
perish,  the  truth  which  Jesus,  by  his  personality  even  more 
than  by  his  teaching,  first  brought  fully  to  light,  that  the 
Infinite  Being,  the  source  and  substance  of  all  things,  is 
best  known  to  men  bv  the  name  of  Father,  must  abide  for 
ever  sure. 

As  belief  in  that  God  who  was  specially  revealed  in  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  may  thus  be  deduced  from 
belief  in  duty,  so,  I  go  on  to  remark,  may  belief  in  immor- 
tality be  deduced  from  belief  in  God.  Thus  the  proposi- 
tion, that  man  is  the  heir  of  a  personal  immortality,  may 
also  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  things  that  can  not  be 
shaken. 

Many  of  the  conceptions  entertained  by  the  theologians 
of  the  past  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  human  immortality 
may  seem,  to  theologians  of  the  present,  untenable.  They 
may  find  it,  in  the  light  of  modern  science,  impossible  to 
believe  in  the  resuscitation  of  the  material  framework  of 


m'farlan.]  can  not  be  SHAKEN.  209 

the  body.  The  belief  in  a  material  heaven,  into  which  the 
resuscitated  bodies  of  the  righteous  shall  pass,  has  perished 
with  the  belief  in  the  ci-ystalline  spheres.  So,  likewise,  has 
the  belief  in  a  subterranean  limbo,  in  which  the  bodies  of 
the  wicked  shall  be  grievously  tormented.  Discussions  as 
to  the  nature  of  the  general  resurrection  and  the  final  judg- 
ment, as  to  an  intermediate  state,  and  the  condition  of  dis- 
embodied spirits  during  the  period  which  intervenes  between 
death  and  the  end  of  the  world,  are  grown  somewhat  out  of 
date.  The  whole  of  the  eschatology  of  the  schoolmen,  in 
fact,  like  their  soteriology  and  their  ontology,  seems  to  the 
modern  theologian  to  be  in  its  details  untenable. 

The  modern  theologian  cleaves,  however,  to  the  old  be- 
lief of  Christendom  in  the  personal  immortality  of  each 
human  spirit.  There  is,  he  maintains,  nothing  inconceiv- 
able in  the  continued  personal  life  of  the  human  spirit.  The 
soul  he  defines  as  the  true  self  in  each  of  us,  as  that  in  which 
"  our  sense  of  personal  identity  inheres  amid  various  im- 
pressions and  continued  disintegration  of  organic  matter. 
It  can  not  therefore  be,  as  the  materialist  asserts,  a  sub- 
stratum of  brain-tissue.  It  seems  to  be,  on  the  contrary,  a 
portion  of  the  true  spiritual  substance  of  the  universe,  so 
conditioned,  by  those  forces  which  present  themselves  to  the 
physiologist  in  the  phenomena  of  brain,  as  that  it  is  largely 
dependent  upon  them  for  the  form  it  takes  as  a  personal 
life  with  an  individual  character."  The  soul  being  thus  a 
true  spiritual  substance,  which  survives  the  gradual  conver- 
sion of  the  portion  of  living  protoplasm,  through  which  it 
first  came  to  have  the  sense  of  personal  identity,  into  dead 
protoplasm,  which  is  slawly  going  on  through  life,  may  out- 
live also  the  more  sudden  change  which  passes  upon  it  at 
death.  Thus  a  continued  personal  life  of  the  soul  is  at 
least  conceivable.  Among  the  infinite  possibilities  of  being, 
there  may  well  be  the  bodies  celestial  of  which  Paul  speaks. 
With  such  new  organisms  wherewith  to  express  themselves 


210  THE  THINGS    WHICH  [sermon  xii. 

to  other  intelligences,  wherewith  also  to  define  themselves 
to  themselves,  and  thus  to  retain  self -consciousness,  "we, 
the  living  agents  that  we  call  ourselves,"  may  be  clothed 
upon  at  death,  the  modern  theologian  is  prepared  to  be- 
lieve. 

The  survival  of  the  soul  after  the  death  of  the  body,  its 
retention  of  its  consciousness  of  continuous  identity  in  a 
new  or  in  several  new  states  of  existence,  being  thus  by  no 
means  incredible  in  the  light  of  modern  science,  all  the  old 
arguments  for  immortality  are  still  available  to  those  who 
are  influenced  by  the  scientific  spirit. 

These  arguments  may  be  briefly  described  a,s—^rst,  that 
derived  from  the  prevalence  of  the  belief  in  all  lands  and 
ages,  and  among  men  at  every  stage  of  civilization  and  cul- 
ture ;  second,  that  derived  from  the  affections — that  which 
results  from  the  conviction  that  the  attachments  we  have 
formed  on  earth  must  be  renewed  in  some  other  forai  in  the 
better  world  beyond  for  which  we  hope  ;  third,  that  de- 
rived from  our  sense  of  justice,  which  demands  that  the 
inequalities  of  the  present  life  shall  be  redressed  in  a  better 
life  to  come  ;  fourth,  that  derived  from  the  incomplete- 
ness of  the  present  life,  viewed  as  a  state  of  education  ; 
fifth,  that  which  is  derived  from  the  mind  of  man  itself, 
with  its  intuitions  of  the  Infinite,  and  its  craving  for  a 
knowledge  of  God,  which  shall  ever  grow  fuller  and  clearer. 

The  two  latter  of  these  arguments  seem,  to  the  theolo- 
gian who  is  influenced  by  the  modern  spirit,  the  best  and 
the  strongest.  They  appear  to  him  necessai-ily  involved  in 
those  theistic  conceptions  of  the  universe  which,  in  their 
turn,  are  legitimate  deductions  from  the  belief  in  and  the 
recognition  of  the  truth  that  righteousness  is  blessedness. 
If  man  be,  as  he  is  constrained  to  believe  that  he  is,  the 
subject  of  a  Divine  education  here,  the  work  of  his  spiritual 
education  must  surely  be  carried  on  in  other  states  of  exist- 
ence hereafter. 


m'farlan.]  can  not  be  SHAKEN.  211 

Those  in  whom  culture,  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term, 
seems  to  have  produced  its  highest  results,  realize  but  im- 
perfectly, it  is  plain,  the  Divine  ideal  of  humanity.  Dare 
any  one  dogmatically  assert  that  the  progress  such  persons 
feel  possible  for  themselves  in  knowledge  and  wisdom  and 
goodness  is  for  ever  arrested  by  death  ?  It  is  possible  in 
thought,  we  have  seen,  to  conceive  that  the  souls  of  the 
good,  their  true  selves,  with  all  their  capabilities  for  intel- 
lectual and  moral  growth,  may  survive  the  dissolution  of 
the  body.  Must  not  that  possibility  of  thought  become  an 
actuality  if  only  thus  man's  ideal  of  man  can  be  realized  ? 
But  if  the  incompleteness  of  their  moral  development  con- 
strains the  theologians,  for  whom  I  speak  at  pi'esent,  to 
cherish  even  for  those  whose  moral  growth  has  been  the 
happiest  the  hope  of  a  continued  existence,  what  shall  they 
say,  they  ask,  of  those  who  are  their  opposites  ?  What 
shall  they  say  of  the  vast  multitude  who  die  in  the  imma- 
turity of  their  powers — of  the  many  whose  lives  are  so  cir- 
aimstanced  as  that  their  latent  capacities  never  get  a  chance 
of  development — of  those  in  whose  characters,  to  the  end 
of  life,  good  and  evil  are  strangely  mixed — of  those  who 
seem  to  have  made  deliberate  choice  of  evil  ?  They  find 
that  "  of  fifty  seeds  "  nature  "often  brings  but  one  to  bear." 
But  shall  they  aflirm  of  the  Father  of  spirits  that  He  deals 
thus  with  the  human  children  whom  He  has  fashioned  into 
separate  souls  and  endowed  with  the  capacity  of  growth  in 
knowledge  and  wisdom  and  goodness?  They  may  have 
tlieir  cynical  moods,  in  which  they  are  tempted  to  regard 
the  mass  of  mankind  as  mere  moral  rubbish,  fitted  only  for 
destruction  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord.  They  may  be 
tempted  to  think  with  Spinoza  that  immortality  is  a  boon 
conferred  only  on  those  whose  souls  have  been  conversant 
with  ideas  that  are  immortal ;  or  they  may  be  induced  to 
assert,  with  some  modern  theologians,  that  immortality  is  a 
gift  purchased  by  Christ  for  those  who  are  called  to  faith 


212  THE  THINGS    WHICH  [sebmon  xu. 

in  him.  Such  conceptions,  however,  can  not  be  permanently 
cherished  by  any  who  have  embraced  the  higher  forms  of 
theistic  belief. 

These  thinkers  observe,  even  in  those  members  of  the 
race  whose  moral  growth  has  been  most  stunted,  the  germs 
at  all  events  of  that  which  they  regard  as  a  Divine  life. 
They  can  not  believe  that  the  souls,  in  which  such  germs 
exist,  are  destined  to  extinction  like  wasted  seeds.  Believ- 
ing in  God  as  wise  and  good,  they  cherish  the  hope,  at  least, 
that  under  more  favorable  conditions  (among  these  favor- 
able conditions  may  be  included,  of  course,  the  sharp  dis- 
cipline of  pain)  the  capabilities  of  moral  and  spiritual  ex- 
cellence, which  remain  almost  wholly  undeveloped  in  the 
present  life  of  some  human  beings,  will  be  developed  in  the 
life  that  is  to  come. 

In  the  fact,  then,  that  man  is  the  subject  of  a  Divine 
education  which  is  unperfected  here,  there  is  a  very  strong 
argument,  they  hold,  for  the  continuance  of  his  life  here- 
after. 

That  argument  becomes  even  more  conclusive,  they 
think,  when  it  is  presented  in  the  slightly  altered  form 
noted  above,  as  that  which  is  derived  from  the  mind  of  man 
itself. 

The  mind  of  man  in  its  normal  state  is  animated  by  a 
ceaseless  craving  for  the  knowledge  of  divine  and  eternal 
truth.  It  is  for  ever  making  inquiries  as  to  the  origin  of 
all  things,  and  the  nature  of  the  power  which  shapes  its 
destiny.  It  is  for  ever  engaged  in  attempts  to  solve  the 
problem  of  existence.  Now,  in  man's  desire  for  such  knowl- 
edge as  this,  there  is  the  best  proof  of  his  immortality. 
Here  he  may  know  in  part  ;  and  the  knowledge  of  God 
which,  even  in  the  present  state  of  existence,  the  devout 
soul  possesses,  is,  in  the  language  of  the  New  Testament, 
eternal  life — i.  e.,  constitutes  it  a  life  full  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  its  own  endurance.     But  the  knowledge  of  God  is 


u'faelan.]  can  not  be  SHAKEN.  213 

capable  of  endless  increase  ;  and  the  creature  who  puts  to 
himself  the  question,  What  is  God  ?  is  surely  destined  to 
have  it  more  and  more  completely  answered  as  the  ages  of 
an  endless  life  roll  on.  "  In  God  we  live,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being. "  These  words  are  as  true  in  one  sense  of 
the  worm,  as  of  the  genius,  or  of  the  saint.  In  another 
sense,  however,  they  have  a  fuller  meaning  for  the  devout 
and  thoughtful  soul  than  for  any  others  of  the  creatures  of 
earth.  That  soul  (and  all  souls  in  a  measure)  is  conscious 
of  a  moral  and  spiritual  as  well  as  of  a  sentient  life.  Its 
higher  life,  it  knows,  is  derived  from  God  and  sustained  by 
him.  It  longs  after  a  communion  with  the  source  of  its 
being,  which  shall  grow  fuller  and  fuller.  Is  there  not, 
in  that  longing,  the  pledge  of  its  immortality  ? 

The  three  propositions,  therefore— ;^rs^,  that  righteous- 
ness is  blessedness  ;  second,  that  there  is  a  Divine  Being 
who  is  seeking  to  make  men  sharers  in  his  blessedness,  by 
making  them  sharers  in  his  righteousness  ;  third,  that  in  the 
cravings  of  the  human  soul  for  communion  with  that  power 
without  it,  which  is  the  source  of  its  being  and  the  ground 
of  its  moral  life,  there  is  the  pledge  of  its  immortality — are, 
the  modern  theologian,  whose  position  I  have  endeavored 
to  define,  holds,  things  which  can  not  be  shaken.  The  two 
latter  of  these  propositions  he  knows  are  questioned.  They 
can  not,  however,  he  maintains,  be  legitimately  denied  ex- 
cept by  those  who  are  willing  to  abandon  themselves  to  an 
absolute  skepticism.  It  is  of  course  open  to  the  stringent 
skeptic  to  deny  that  there  is  a  voice  speaking  in  his  con- 
science, bidding  him  do  right,  which  is  not  his  own  voice, 
speaking  to  himself.  But  the  skepticism  which  would  con- 
strain the  atheist  to  refuse  to  the  theist  his  assumption — a 
command  outside  of  his  moral  nature — would  compel  him 
also  to  deny  to  the  physical  philosopher  his  assumption — a 
physical  world  apart  from  his  thought  of  it.  He  would 
thus  be  driven  into  that  dreariest  skepticism,  which  para- 


214  THINGS    WHICH  CAN  NOT  BE  SHAKEN,  [sermon  xii. 

lyzes  our  intellectual  as  well  as  our  moral  powers,  which 
leads  us  to  doubt  whether  we  have  any  real  existence  or  no, 
whether  we  think,  or  only  think  that  we  think — which  con- 
sequently turns  our  whole  life  into  a  dream  within  a  dream. 
Thus,  then,  the  modern  theologian  holds  that  the  concep- 
tions which  may  be  expressed  in  the  three  words.  Duty, 
God,  Immortality,  are  truths  which  no  discoveries  of  sci- 
ence, no  investigations  of  the  Biblical  critic,  no  wind  of 
modern  doctrine,  can  really  endanger. 

Those,  whose  views  I  have  undertaken  to  expound, 
welcome  accordingly  the  attacks  which  are  made  by  the 
students  of  science,  natural  and  Biblical,  upon  the  dogmatic 
theology  of  the  past.  They  believe  that,  painful  though 
these  attacks  may  be  to  many  devout  Christians,  they  must 
ultimately  be  beneficial  to  the  religion  of  Christ.  They 
will  result,  they  perceive,  in  the  demolition  of  those  doc- 
trines, artificial  and  unverifiablo,  which  have  wellnigh  con- 
cealed Christ's  simple  gospel,  that  man  has  a  Father  in 
heaven,  who  is  seeking  to  make  him  "  perfect  as  he  is  per- 
fect." They  are  confident  that,  when  the  dust-clouds,  raised 
by  the  pulling  down  of  those  unsightly  structures  of  scho- 
lastic dogma,  which  have  been  piled  l^p  around  the  doctrine 
of  Christ,  clear  away,  that  doctrine  itself  will  reappear  again 
before  the  eyes  of  men  in  all  its  stately  simplicity. 


MENziES.]     SUCCESSOBS  OF  TEE   GREAT  niYSICIAN.  215 


XIII. 

THE  SUCCESSOES   OF  THE  GEEAT 
PHYSICIAN. 

BY  THE  REV.  ALLAN  MENZIES,  B.  D.,  ABERNTTE,  PERTHSHIRE. 

"  As  ye  go,  preach,  saying,  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand. 
Heal  the  sick,  cleanse  the  lepers,  raise  the  dead,  cast  out  devils." — 
Matt,  x,  7,  8. 

In  several  passages  of  the  later  prophets  of  the  Old 
Testament,  we  find  it  predicted  that,  in  the  great  restora- 
tion to  which  these  seers  looked  forward,  there  would  be  an 
end  of  various  kinds  of  physical  evil.  "In  that  day,"  we 
read,  "  shall  the  deaf  hear  the  words  of  the  book,  and  tlie 
eyes  of  the  blind  shall  see  out  of  obscurity."  "Then  the 
eyes  of  the  blind  shall  be  opened,  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf 
shall  be  unstopped.  Then  shall  the  lame  man  leap  as  an 
hart,  and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  sing."  In  such  vivid  lan- 
guage did  they  describe  the  happiness  of  that  epoch  which 
was  the  subject  of  their  faithful  longings,  when  God  should 
renew  the  heart  of  his  people,  or  when  the  exiles  should 
return  to  Jerusalem,  and  the  kingdom  of  God  be  established 
there.  It  was  not  enough  to  say  that  Israel  would  at  last 
be  true  to  its  high  calling,  that  the  divisions  of  the  people 
would  be  healed,  and  all  nations  flock  to  the  worship  of  the 
true  God.  In  that  happy  time  every  possible  good  would 
descend  into  the  world  ;  every  deliverance  which  the  poor 
and  needy  could  desire  would  be  accomplished  ;  all  tears 
would  be  wiped  away.     Even  physical  evil  would  disap- 


216  THE  SUCCESSORS  OF  [sermon  xm. 

pear,  even  the  light  of  nature  would  partake  in  the  univer- 
sal blessedness. 

Are  these  expressions  of  the  prophets  to  be  understood 
literally  ?  Was  it  really  their  expectation  that  the  time 
would  come  when  not  only  those  evils  which  spring  from 
man's  sinfulness — injustice  and  unbelief  and  warfare — but 
those  evils,  also,  which  lie  beyond  man's  control — pain  and 
disease  and  physical  infirmity — would  cease  to  afflict  him  ? 
It  may  be  doubted  whether  they  actually  expected  this  to 
come  to  pass  :  these  expressions  were  probably  intended 
simply  as  powerful  figures  or  metaphors  for  the  great  deliv- 
erance which  they  saw  in  the  future. 

But,  when  we  come  to  New  Testament  times,  we  find 
new  life  given  to  this  class  of  sayings,  in  a  way  which  we 
could  scarcely  have  expected.  Our  Lord  repeats  them,  and 
seems  to  find  in  them  a  true  description  of  the  events  which 
accompanied  his  preaching.  When  John  the  Baptist  sends 
from  the  prison  to  ask  Jesus  for  some  declaration  as  to  his 
Messiahship,  Jesus  replies  that  those  things  are  actually 
taking  place  which  the  Jews  believed  on  the  strength  of 
prophecy  that  the  Messiah  would  do.  The  blind  receive 
their  sight,  and  the  lame  walk,  the  dead  are  raised  up,  and 
the  lepers  are  cleansed,  just  as  the  prophets  predicted  ; 
thus  it  is  proved  that  this  is  the  time  of  which  the  prophets 
spoke.  From  these  things  John  may  draw  his  own  con- 
clusion. 

Is  Jesus  to  be  understood  literally,  when  He  uses  the 
expressions  of  the  prophets  in  this  way?  Is  He  speaking 
of  real  outward  cures,  and  founding  upon  them  an  argu- 
ment for  his  own  Messiahship  ?  That  also  has  been  doubt- 
ed, and  in  support  of  such  a  doubt  attention  has  been  called 
to  the  fact  that  He  on  one  occasion  speaks  of  "  the  dead " 
in  a  metaphorical  way,  as  those  who  do  not  care  about  the 
kingdom  of  God.  With  regard  to  the  rest  of  these  phrases, 
it  is  remarked  that  He  refused  to  work  a  miracle  when  He 


MENZiES.]  THE  GEE  AT  PHYSICIAN.  217 

was  asked  to  do  so,  to  prove  that  He  was  the  Messiah  ;  that 
He  spoke  disparagingly  of  miracles,  and  generally  tried, 
when  He  had  cured  any  one,  to  keep  the  matter  quiet.  It 
is  thus  quite  possible  to  assign  to  these  phrases,  as  used  by 
Jesus,  the  same  figurative  significance  in  which  they  had 
been  used  at  first.  Jesus  may  have  meant  nothing  more 
than  to  state  in  a  vivid  way  the  impression  which  his 
preaching  was  producing  on  the  mind  of  the  country.  If 
new  ideas  were  set  afloat  which  made  a  new  world  rise 
upon  the  mental  vision  of  those  who  received  them — if  the 
indifferent  or  the  despairing  awoke  to  the  glad  tidings — if 
natures  sunk  in  the  death  of  sin  arose  to  a  new  life — if  those 
whose  conduct  had  been  stumbling  and  irregular  were  set 
upon  their  feet  to  do  right  steadily  and  consistently — then 
the  metaphors  of  the  prophets  were  not  too  strong  to  de- 
scribe so  happy  a  revival. 

For  a  religious  use  of  the  Gospels  no  more  profitable 
view  of  these  phrases  need  be  desired.  As  poetry,  they  are 
full  of  instruction  and  of  spiritual  suggestion,  and  speak  to 
the  heart  of  every  age.  Even  in  quarters  where  there  is 
no  sympathy  for  any  attempt  to  explain  away  the  miracles 
of  Jesus,  there  is  often  a  strong  tendency  to  use  them  as 
symbols  and  parables  of  the  spiritual  infirmities  of  human- 
ity, and  of  the  cure  of  such  infirmities  by  the  gospel.  In 
the  preaching  which  dwells  most  upon  the  Saviour  and  the 
sinner's  need  of  him,  the  leper  symbolizes  the  sin-polluted 
soul,  which  no  waters  of  earth's  culture  can  cleanse  ;  the 
blind  man  at  the  gate  of  Jericho  is  a  figure  of  those  whose 
eyes  have  never  opened  to  the  gospel  ;  the  dead  whom 
Christ  raised  up  stands  for  the  worldling,  in  whom  the  true 
life  has  never  been  suffered  to  aAvake  ;  the  demoniac  is 
the  man  whose  passions  no  restraint  can  overcome.  Most 
beautiful,  most  richly  fraught  with  deep  and  tender  wis- 
dom, is  this  symbolical  view  of  the  healings  of  Christ, 
which  finds  in  the  words  and  actions  accompanying  these 
10 


218  THE  SUCCESSORS  OF  [seemon  xiii, 

cures  indications  of  the  character  and  of  the  modes  of 
operation  of  the  great  Physician  of  the  soul. 

But  Christ  cured  the  bodily  ailments  of  his  countrymen 
as  well  as  the  sicknesses  of  their  spirits,  and  it  is  to  this 
fact,  with  the  lessons  to  be  gathered  from  it,  that  we  now 
wish  to  direct  attention.  It  is  a  very  imperfect  view  of 
him  which  regards  him  merely  as  a  teacher,  or  merely  as  a 
spiritual  deliverer.  As  a  pure  matter  of  history,  it  is  im- 
possible to  understand  his  life  or  his  character  if  we  remove 
from  the  gospel  narrative  the  cures  which  He  is  recorded  to 
have  wrought.  When  his  first  disciples  looked  back,  after 
his  death,  on  what  He  was,  and  sought  to  give  a  compen- 
dious account  of  his  activity,  they  spoke  not  only  of  his 
preaching,  but  also  of  the  power  which  He  exercised  ;  they 
said  that  He  went  about  doing  good,  and  healing  all  that 
were  oppressed  of  the  devil  (Acts  x,  38).  They  recorded 
that,  when  He  sent  them  out  on  their  first  missionary  tour. 
He  commissioned  them  not  only  to  preach  the  gospel,  but 
also  to  do  works  of  healing,  as  He  did  himself.  And  we 
know,  from  various  sources,  that  the  gift  of  healing  was 
believed  to  survive  in  the  early  Church  for  a  considerable 
period  after  the  death  of  Jesus. 

What  are  we  to  think  of  this  feature  of  the  life  of 
Jesus  ?  If  we  do  not  spii'itualize  this  part  of  the  history, 
what  lessons  are  we  to  deduce  from  it  ?  The  great  interest 
of  this  part  of  the  gospel  story  has  often  been  thought  to 
consist  in  its  value  as  evidence  to  the  truth  of  Christianity. 
The  miracles  have  been  considered  as  one  of  the  chief  sup- 
ports of  the  divine  nature  of  the  Christian  revelation.  We 
need  not  now  discuss  how  much  force  there  is  in  such  evi- 
dence to  establish  such  conclusions  :  that  is  a  point  on 
which  very  different  opinions  have  been  and  still  are  held. 
But  there  is  another  conclusion  to  be  drawn  from  this  ele- 
ment of  the  narrative,  the  legitimacy  of  which  is  open  to 
less  question.     Whatever  the  miracles  may  prove  about  the 


MENziEs.J  THE  GEEAT  PHYSICIAN.  219 

authority  of  tbose  who  put  forth  such  a  power,  they  cer- 
tainly prove  something  as  to  the  conception  of  the  kingdom 
of  God  which  was  held  by  Christ  and  his  disciples.  If  it 
was  a  characteristic  sign  of  the  Messianic  era  that  works 
like  these  should  accompany  its  progress,  and  that  men 
should  be  relieved  in  it  from  physical  distresses  and  infirmi- 
ties, then  clearly  the  kingdom  of  God,  which  was  believed 
to  be  impending,  had  deliverance  in  store  for  the  bodies  of 
men  as  well  as  for  their  souls,  and  disease  and  pain  were  to 
come  to  an  end,  as  well  as  unbelief  and  discord  and  social 
injustice.  And  when  we  consider  the  character  of  Christ, 
and  ask  with  what  eySs  He  must  have  looked  on  the  sick- 
nesses and  misfortunes  of  his  countrymen,  we  are  strength- 
ened in  the  conclusion  that  lie  must  have  sought  to  set 
them  free  from  more  than  one  kind  of  infirmity,  and  that 
his  hope  for  the  future  included  the  triumph  of  good  over 
evil,  not  in  one  particular  only,  but  in  all.  When  He  saw 
the  multitudes  and  had  compassion  on  them,  He  sought  to 
set  them  right  not  only  by  preaching,  but  by  his  works  as 
well.  When  He  felt  the  Spirit  of  God  resting  upon  him. 
He  was  impelled  not  only  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor, 
but  also  to  heal  the  broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliverance 
to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind, 
and  to  set  at  liberty  them  that  were  bound.  He  knew 
that  He  was  sent  to  overthrow  the  enemy  of  mankind  in 
every  province  in  which  that  potentate  had  exercised 
his  tyranny.  He  was  not  deaf  to  any  cry  that  was  ad- 
dressed to  him  for  help.  He  knew  human  life  too  well 
to  look  upon  the  problem  of  man's  deliverance  in  any 
partial  or  one-sided  way.  If  the  miracles  wore  the  pre- 
monitory signs  of  the  period  when  God's  Spirit  should 
take  full  possession  of  society,  they  showed  that  in  that 
happy  state,  which  Jesus  believed  to  be  at  hand,  mankind 
should  be  set  at  liberty  from  every  evil  power,  that  every 
burden   would    be    removed    and   all    tears   wiped   away, 


220  ^-^-^  SUCCESSORS  OF  [seesion  xiii. 

and  the  blessedness  of  the  beginning  restored  to  the  world 
once  more. 

So  broad  and  generous  is  the  conception  of  the  benefits 
it  was  to  confer,  which  lies  at  the  root  of  Christianity. 
Urged  by  a  faith  in  a  loving  Father  of  men,  with  whose 
will  all  pain  and  sickness  must  be  inconsistent,  Christianity 
began  a  bold  attack  upon  the  hostile  powers  which  had 
carried  on  such  an  oppressive  reign.  Looking  for  a  king- 
dom in  which  the  loving  will  of  God  should  be  realized, 
it  refused  to  believe  that  any  kind  of  distress  could  be  per- 
petual, and  looked  boldly  for  the  time  when  the  ancient 
rule  of  evil  should  be  dissolved,  and  the  creature  delivered 
from  the  bondage  of  corruption  into  a  glorious  liberty. 
As  it  existed  in  the  mind  of  Christ — and  to  what  other 
quarter  can  we  turn  to  recognize  the  true  genius  of  our 
faith  ? — Christianity  was  miuch  more  than  a  doctrine,  much 
more  than  a  scheme  for  propagating  truth  ;  that  was  only 
half  its  mission  :  it  was  an  impulse  to  deliverance,  a  power 
to  deliver,  which  must  work  its  way  in  every  part  of  hu- 
man life,  till  the  deliverance  became  absolute  and  imiversal. 
It  aimed  at  the  reduction  of  every  tyranny,  at  the  liberation 
of  all  who  were  any  way  oppressed,  and  it  could  not  cease 
to  operate  until  God's  loving  will  was  done  on  earth  as  it 
was  done  in  heaven,  and  God's  kingdom  had  come  in  a 
saved  and  regenerated  world.  And  therefore  Christ  not 
only  preached  the  gospel,  but  He  also  cured  the  sick,  and 
gave  sight  to  the  blind,  and  cast  out  devils. 

In  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  Christ  has  not  wanted 
successors.  To  carry  on  this,  the  first  and  noblest  portion 
of  his  work,  great  institutions  have  arisen  and  have  flour- 
ished ;  thousands  of  churches  have  been  reared  in  every 
land ;  thousands  upon  thousands  of  devout  and  able  men 
in  every  age  have  devoted  their  lives.  And  claiming  to 
stand  in  his  place,  and  to  speak  in  his  name,  the  churches 
have  been  accepted  by  the  world  as  his  representatives. 


MENziEs.J  THE  GEE  AT  PHYSICIAN.  221 

But  it  may  be  worth  while  to  ask,  Who  are  the  successors 
of  the  Lord  in  the  other  and  not  less  essential  part  of  his 
activity  ?  Where  are  they  to  be  found,  what  are  they 
called,  what  recognition  do  they  receive  from  those  who 
represent  Christ  in  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  ? 

They  also  are  legion,  but  as  their  tasks  are  many  and 
various,  and  not  specially  connected  with  the  outward  part 
of  religion,  they  are  not  combined  into  an  organism,  and 
put  forward  no  united  claim  ;  many  of  them  are  but  loosely 
connected  with  the  associations  which  claim  to  represent 
Christianity  ;  many  of  them  make  no  religious  profession 
at  all,  and  look  with  suspicion  on  the  churches.  Yet 
whether  we  regard  the  impulse  by  which  their  labors  are 
inspired,  or  the  object  to  which  they  tend,  they  are  one 
among  themselves,  and  one  with  the  Church  of  Christ. 

Every  age  has  its  own  conception  of  that  kingdom  of 
God  in  the  hope  of  which  Christians  live  and  labor.  In 
our  age  the  growing  organization  of  society,  the  rise  of 
new  sciences,  the  division  of  knowledge  into  a  multiplicity 
of  provinces,  have  brought  with  them  very  large  concep- 
tions of  the  benefits  of  which  men  stand  in  need,  and  of  the 
end  toward  which  the  world  advances.  To  raise  men  out 
of  the  various  evils  which  aflflict  them,  and  to  procure  for 
them  a  healthy,  and  free,  and  rational  existence  :  this,  we 
are  coming  more  and  more  to  see,  is  a  very  wide  and  com- 
plex problem,  and  requires  the  cooperation  of  many  labor- 
ers in  many  fields.  It  would  lead  far  beyond  the  limits  of 
a  sermon,  were  we  to  specify  the  various  lines  on  which 
contributions  are  being  made  by  men  of  public  spirit,  and 
by  the  stately  sisterhood  of  the  sciences,  toward  the  eman- 
cipation of  mankind  from  the  various  influences  which 
hinder  its  growth.  But  where  any  labor  is  unselfishly 
engaged  in,  which  tends  even  remotely  to  further  this 
emancipation,  there  we  need  not  hesitate  to  say  that  part  of 
the  task  is  being  done  which  the  love  and  the  enthusiasm 


222  THE  SUCCESSORS  OF  [sermon  xiii. 

of  Christ  imposed  upon  his  followers,  and  this  irrespective 
of  the  consideration  whether  the  name  of  Christ  is  named 
or  not.  Christianity  is  broader  than  the  creeds,  wider  than 
the  churches.  The  impulse  which  prompts  any  man  to 
deny  himself  in  order  to  do  good  to  others,  and  to  win  for 
them  what  they  can  not  achieve  for  themselves,  is  essen- 
tially a  Christian  impulse,  and  connects  the  man  who  lives 
in  its  power  in  a  real  and  historical  bond  with  him  who 
claimed  for  his  kindred  all  those  who  did  the  will  of  his 
Father. 

It  is  a  commonplace  of  religious  teaching  that  a  man  is 
serving  Christianity  not  only  when  he  is  engaged  in  di- 
rectly religious  affairs,  but  also  when  he  is  rendering  prac- 
tical service  to  his  neighbors,  perhaps  without  thinking  of 
religion  at  all.  Indeed,  the  requirement  of  good  works 
stands  in  the  very  front  of  the  Gospel  :  faith  only  makes  a 
man  half  a  Christian,  and  good  works  are  needed  to  make 
up  his  full  title  to  that  name.  Every  Christian,  even  the 
humblest  and  weakest,  is  called  not  only  to  believe  in 
Christ,  but  also  to  do  what  he  can  for  his  neighbors.  These 
are  very  obvious  truths,  and  they  will  scarcely  be  contro- 
verted when  we  apply  them  on  a  larger  scale,  to  the  life, 
not  of  the  individual,  but  of  the  society.  Something  more 
than  faith  is  needed  to  make  up  a  Christian  society  or 
State.  Taken  by  herself,  the  Church  does  not  represent 
the  Christianity  of  a  country.  A  State  is  Christian  not 
only  in  virtue  of  her  Church  or  Churches  ;  these  denote 
only  one  element  of  her  religious  life,  and,  though  they 
were  to  gain  all  the  ascendancy  they  crave,  the  religious 
life  of  the  State  might  still  be  extremely  defective.  An- 
other and  not  less  essential  element  of  national  religion  is 
contributed  by  those  who  are  laboring  in  any  way  for  the 
improvement  of  society.  Those  who  execute  the  behests  of 
the  Christian  spirit  by  seeking  to  do  for  society  what  mir- 
acles sought  in  isolated  cases  to  do  for  the  individual — to 


MENziEs.l  THE  GREAT  PHYSICIAN.  223 

heal  its  sick,  to  cleanse  its  lepers,  to  cast  out  its  devils — 
are  as  real  servants  of  Christianity  as  those  who  preach  its 
doctrines.  The  labors  of  the  former  are  to  the  full  as  in- 
dispensable as  those  of  the  latter  to  the  realizing  of  a  king- 
dom of  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy  upon  this  earth. 

If,  then,  we  count  the  preacher  peculiarly  the  servant  of 
Christ,  who  seeks  to  open  men's  minds  to  the  thought  of  the 
relations  which  they  bear  to  God  and  man,  and  to  the  lofti- 
est view  of  the  meaning  and  purpose  of  their  lives,  and 
if  God's  blessing  be  thought  to  rest  on  the  Sunday-school 
teacher,  and  on  the  district  visitor  who  seeks  to  serve  our 
Master  by  little  acts  of  kindness  to  his  poor,  must  we  not 
hold  worthy  of  the  same  honor  those  who  are  laboring  in 
other  and  not  less  arduous  ways  to  bring  to  human  life  the 
blessings  of  light  and  peace  and  freedom  ?  Are  not  the 
doctor  and  the  physiologist  and  the  sanitary  reformer  en- 
gaged in  works  which  Christ  directly  enjoins  ?  Are  not 
the  political  economist,  the  legislator,  the  administrator, 
aiming  at  the  removal  of  those  evils  from  the  root,  with 
which  the  physician  deals  when  they  arise  ?  Are  not  the 
teacher  and  the  student  of  educational  science  laboring  for 
such  an  elevation  of  the  people  that  they  will  save  them- 
selves from  many  of  the  evils  under  which  at  present  they 
are  so  helpless  ?  And  who  can  tell  in  how  many  ways  the 
progress  of  science  will  prove  to  be  the  emancipation  of  man- 
kind ?  It  would  be  possible  to  take  a  much  wider  sweep, 
and  to  maintain  the  essential  alliance  of  all  those  whose 
efforts  spring  from  a  higher  source  than  their  own  private 
ends — scholai',  philosopher,  man  of  science,  poet  or  artist — 
in  the  great  work  of  satisfying  the  growing  needs  and  ad- 
vancing the  welfare  of  mankind.  For  our  present  purpose 
we  may  rest  content  with  saying  that  all  those  who  are 
engaged  in  labors  by  which  they  seek  to  serve  their  fellow- 
creatures  ;  who  are  saving  the  distressed,  or  instructing  the 
ignorant,  or  thinking  thoughts  by  which  man's  life  shall  be 


224  THE  SUVCEHSOIiS  OF  Isermon  xiii. 

guided  or  illuminated,  that  they  are  all  engaged  in  the  same 
work  which  Christianity  began,  and  has  for  so  many  cen- 
turies, with  varying  success,  carried  forward. 

And  here,  it  will  more  and  more  be  found,  lies  one  most 
obvious  reconciliation  of  science  with  religion.  That  all 
truth  is  one  is  a  doctrine  which,  in  an  age  filled  with  such 
conflicting  tendencies  of  thought  as  this,  all  can  not  be  ex- 
pected to  grasp,  except  perhaps  by  faith.  That  all  honest 
effort,  that  all  striving  to  do  good,  is  one,  this  is  a  doc- 
trine, the  prevalence  of  which  is  perhaps  nearer  at  hand. 
It  may  be  that  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  it  will  be 
recognized  that  all  who  are  seeking  to  render  any  service 
to  mankind  are  laboring  in  the  same  cause.  And,  when  the 
Church  can  bring  herself  to  acknowledge  this  great  fact, 
she  will  have  done  much  to  disarm  the  hostility  with  which 
she  is  frequently  regarded,  and  to  regain  her  rightful  posi- 
tion as  the  conscience  and  the  great  inspiring  force  of  the 
country.  The  battle  of  beliefs  may  not  be  destined  soon 
to  issue  in  a  general  consent,  but  a  speedier  victory  than 
any  she  can  gain  by  argument  and  insisting  on  her  evidences 
awaits  the  Church,  when  she  takes  thoroughly  to  heart  her 
Master's  words,  "Pie  who  is  not  against  us  is  for  us,"  and 
rises  to  the  thought  that  the  cause  of  Christ  is  not  to  be 
identified  with  the  interests  of  religious  bodies,  but  with 
the  interests  of  mankind.  If  there  are  many  good  works 
to  be  done  for  mankind,  which  the  Church  as  such  has  no 
call  to  undertake,  if  the  growing  complexity  of  civilization 
and  the  increase  of  learning  have  made  the  progress  of 
society  a  wider  problem,  and  divided  it  into  a  multitude  of 
parts,  each  calling  for  hard  and  disinterested  labor,  the 
Church,  if  she  is  wise,  will  claim  as  her  fellow-laborers 
those  who  are  discharging  other  functions  than  her  own 
of  the  great  public  service.  While  holding  that  her  own 
function  is  the  highest  and  most  central  of  all,  she  will  not 
think  of  detracting  from  the  value  of  what  is  done  in  dif- 


MENZIE8.]  THE  GREAT  PHYSICIAN.  225 

ferent  fields,  and  with  a  different  method  from  her  own. 
As  the  early  apologists  showed  the  heathens  who  derided 
their  faith,  so  she  will  show  to  them  that  they  are  Chris- 
tians though  they  know  it  not,  and  that  in  proportion  to 
their  love  of  truth  and  their  unselfishness  they  are  serving 
Christianity. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  division  of  the  work  which  is 
done  for  society  into  an  increasing  number  of  parts,  and 
of  the  rise  of  new  provinces  of  learning,  and  of  new  de- 
partments of  the  public  service.  In  connection  with  this 
tendency  toward  specialization  and  elaborate  organization, 
which  is  characteristic  of  modern  times,  we  can  not  forget 
how  frequently  the  rise  of  new  departments  has  taken 
the  aspect  of  a  restriction  of  the  activity  of  the  Church, 
and  of  a  curtailment  of  her  power.  The  great  institution 
which  formerly  controlled  every  province  of  human  life,  and 
claimed  a  right  of  dictation  in  nearly  all  the  world's  affairs, 
is  thrust  back  from  one  province  after  another,  and  made 
to  surrender  one  after  another  of  her  offices  to  secular  hands. 
It  is  long  since  the  Church  ceased  to  regard  the  healing  of 
the  sick  as  a  function  pertaining  to  herself  ;  it  is  long  since 
the  whole  of  the  learning  of  the  world  pertained  to  her, 
though  not  so  long  since  she,  in  part,  relaxed  her  hold  upon 
our  universities.  The  period  which  has  elapsed  since  she 
gave  up  seeking  to  control  the  civil  government  in  this 
country  is  now  to  be  reckoned  by  centuries.  It  is  not  half 
a  century  since  the  relief  of  the  poor  was  removed  from  her 
management,  and  placed  under  an  authority  created  for 
that  purpose  ;  and  the  change  is  quite  recent  which  has 
withdrawn  the  schools  of  the  country  from  her  jurisdiction, 
and  intrusted  them  to  School  Boards,  over  the  election  of 
which  she  has  no  control.  Other  tendencies  are  at  work 
which  may  possibly  issue  in. similar  changes. 

But,  in  being  committed  to  the  hands  of  the  general 
population  of  the  country,  these  activities  have  not  ceased 


226       SUCCESSORS  OF  THE  GREAT  PHYSICIAN,    [sermon  xiii. 

to  be  Christian,  nor  is  this  tendency  one  which  need  occa- 
sion dismay  to  a  Church  conscious  of  the  true  foundation 
of  her  influence.  Marking  these  changes  and  meditating  on 
the  true  relation  of  the  Church  to  the  various  bodies  which 
exist  at  her  side,  we  are  led  to  a  very  large  conception  of 
the  place  and  duty  of  the  Church  in  a  highly  organized 
community.  What  she  loses  in  direct  power  she  ought  to 
gain  in  influence.  While  she  recognizes  the  usefulness  of 
what  is  done  for  society  by  the  various  secular  agencies, 
she  is  herself  the  only  meeting-point  at  which  a  unity  can 
be  established  between  all  those  laborers  in  different  fields. 
Apart  from  her  they  are  divided,  but  in  her  they  are  one  ; 
and  she  can  infuse  into  them  the  spirit  which  they  shall 
carry  into  their  various  operations.  While  she  does  not 
seek  to  dictate  to  them  as  to  those  matters  which  society 
has  intrusted  to  their  hands,  while  she  does  not  seek  to 
force  herself  into  provinces  which  belong  to  other  bodies, 
she  yet  claims  to  declare  the  motives  and  the  principles  of 
conduct  which  in  every  department  ought  to  be  respected 
and  acted  on.  Leaving  the  scholar  and  the  legislator  and 
the  teacher — shall  we  not  say  the  theologian  also  ? — free  to 
form  their  own  convictions,  and  not  seeking  to  coerce  them 
to  her  own  belief,  or  her  own  policy  in  matters  of  which 
they  are  the  best  judges,  she  yet  unites  them  in  her  wor- 
ship, and  fuses  them  together  in  the  pure  enthusiasm  of 
self-devotion  and  religion.  Recognizing  them  all  as  breth- 
ren, as  servants  of  the  one  Lord,  as  fellow-workers  in  the 
same  great  cause,  she  sends  them  forth  to  work  in  his  spirit, 
and  by  their  different  efforts  to  win  the  world  to  him.  And 
thus  she  not  only  fulfills  his  command  to  preach  the  gospel, 
but  by  the  influence  which  she  exerts  on  all  true-hearted 
and  public-spirited  men  she  fulfills  his  other  commands  also, 
to  heal  the  sick,  to  cleanse  the  lepers,  to  cast  out  devils. 

May  the  Lord  grant  to  his  Church  to  be  of  this  mind  ! 
Amen. 


wENziEs.]  THi:  CUIilSTlAN  PRIESTHOOD.  227 


XIV. 
THE  CIIEISTIAN  PKIESTIIOOD. 

BY   THE    REV.  ALLAN   MENZIES,  B.  D.,  ABEUNTTE. 

"  Who  hath  made  us  .  .  .  priests  unto  God  and  his  Father." — 
Rev.  i,  6. 

Words  similar  to  these  are  reported  to  have  been  spoken 
to  the  Jews  at  the  outset  of  their  national  history.  When 
they  were  assembled  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Sinai  to  receive 
their  legislation,  we  read  that  Moses  addressed  them  in  words 
which  were  meant  to  give  them  a  high  conception  of  the 
position  they  were  called  to  occupy  in  the  world.  God,  he 
said,  had  commanded  him  to  say  to  them  that,  if  they  were 
true  to  the  covenant  then  being  formed,  they  would  be  a 
kingdom  of  priests  and  a  holy  nation. 

These  phrases  were  reechoed  at  the  outset  of  Christianity 
by  several  of  the  sacred  writers,  and  applied  to  the  commu- 
nity of  believers  in  Christ.  Christians  were  bidden  to  be- 
lieve that  what  Christ  had  done  for  them  was  to  make  them 
kings  and  priests  to  God,  a  royal  priesthood,  a  holy  nation. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  what  is  meant  when  the 
adherents  of  these  young  religions  are  exhorted  to  think  that 
they  are  kings  to  God.  The  words  point  to  the  fact,  so  soon 
forgotten  in  each  case,  that  the  full  consciousness  of  being 
under  God's  authority  emancipates  the  worshiper  from  all 
human  dictation.  He  who  is  fully  aware  of  his  responsibil- 
ity to  God  escapes  in  his  spirit  from  the  control  of  every 
other  ruler,  whatever  his  outward  lot  may  be.     His  ruler 


238  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD.  [sermon  xiv. 

dwells  within  him  ;  he  is  his  own  king  ;  he  sees  no  one 
above  him  ;  the  sense  of  the  allegiance  which  he  owes  to 
God  enables  him  to  govern  his  life  consistently,  without  feel- 
ing the  control  of  outward  magistrates  and  laws. 

What  does  it  mean  when  we  find  it  said  to  the  Jews  at 
the  outset  of  their  history,  and  repeated  to  the  Christians  at 
the  beginning  of  theirs,  that  they  are  to  be  priests  to  God  ? 

First  of  all,  we  can  not  fail  to  see  that  the  expression 
marks  a  great  difference  in  each  case  between  the  new  re- 
ligion and  the  religions  which  had  gone  before.  In  the  older 
religions,  it  is  suggested,  only  some  of  the  worshipers  were 
priests  ;  there  was  a  priestly  caste  or  class,  which  stood  be- 
tween the  people  and  the  object  of  their  worship  ;  the  peo- 
ple had  to  transact  their  religious  affairs  through  the  medium 
of  a  priesthood.  The  priesthood  and  the  laity  were  marked 
off  from  each  other  as  two  distinct  and  separate  classes. 

But  in  Judaism,  Moses  said,  and  in  Christianity,  the* 
apostles  John  and  Peter  said  (and  the  apostle  Paul  asserts 
the  same,  not  in  these  words,  but  in  others  quite  as  strong), 
that  is  not  to  be  the  case.  Here  there  is  to  be  no  distinc- 
tion between  persons  who  are  sacred  and  persons  who  are 
secular  ;  no  line  is  to  be  drawn  between  priesthood  and 
laity.  What  the  priests  did  in  these  older  religions,  it  is 
implied,  you  Jews  and  you  Christians  are  to  do  for  your- 
selves. Where  the  priests  stood  in  these  imperfect  and  ele- 
mentary faiths,  you,  if  you  are  true  to  your  calling,  are  all 
to  stand.  You  are  all  priests  ;  you  are  not  to  get  your  re- 
ligious affairs  done  for  you  by  proxy — you  are  to  transact 
with  God  by  and  for  yourselves. 

This,  it  will  generally  be  agreed,  is  the  notion  which  the 
words  of  our  text  expressed  at  first,  both  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  in  the  New.  They  marked  the  passage  from  a 
mechanical  and  superstitious  religion  to  one  direct  and  spir- 
itual ;  from  a  worship  which  it  required  priests  to  carry  on 
to  a  worship  which  is  to  be  carried  on  in  the  individual  soul. 


MENZiEs.]  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTUOOD.  229 

And  it  is  a  very  obvious  remark  that  neither  in  Judaism 
nor  in  Christianity  has  the  ideal  thus  set  up  at  the  begin- 
ning been  at  all  generally  realized.  In  Judaism  an  elabo- 
rate system  of  washings,  sacrifices,  and  offerings  came  to  be 
instituted,  for  the  proper  observance  of  which  the  services 
of  the  priesthood  were  essential.  It  was  found  impossible 
to  carry  on  the  national  religion  without  all  this  machinery. 
The  people  soon  fell  back  from  being  priests,  and  the  func- 
tions which  every  individual  ought  to  have  discharged  were 
delegated  to  a  class,  who,  standing  between  God  and  the 
worshipers,  gained  a  great  and  not  always  a  salutary  power 
over  the  conscience  and  the  belief  and  the  whole  life  of  the 
people. 

In  Christianity  better  things  might  have  been  expected, 
but  here  also  the  old  notion  soon  crept  in  of  having  a  class 
set  apart  to  transact  the  religious  affairs  of  the  rest.  It  soon 
came  to  be  believed,  a  belief  of  which  we  find  no  trace  in 
the  New  Testament,  that  a  man  could  not  stand  on  good 
terms  with  God  except  by  the  mediation  of  the  priesthood. 
The  priesthood  was  thought  to  be  in  possession  of  the  bread 
of  life  and  of  the  keys  of  heaven.  There  have  always  been, 
and  there  are  still,  forms  of  Christianity  which  practically 
deny  that  the  human  spirit  stands  in  any  immediate  relation 
with  God.  Great  systems  of  church  polity  and  of  doctrine 
are  founded  on  the  assumption  that  there  is  a  great  gulf 
fixed  between  God  and  man,  and  that  that  gulf  is  not  to  be 
bridged  except  by  great  and  well-contrived  appliances,  ad- 
ministered by  those  who  are  properly  initiated  into  their 
modes  of  working.  In  the  most  unlikely  quarters  it  might 
perhaps  be  found  that  the  old  heathen  notion  of  a  religious 
aristocracy  still  survives,  by  whose  favorable  oflUces  men 
may  advance  themselves  with  God. 

But  the  great  interest  of  our  text  lies  less  in  what  it  sug- 
gests with  regard  to  a  particular  class  than  in  the  standard 
it  sets  up  for  the  religion  of  all.     It  does  away  with  the 


230  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD.  fsERMON  xiv. 

priestly  class,  not  by  dragging  it  down,  but  by  lifting  up 
the  lives  of  those  who  do  not  belong  to  it.  There  is  no 
function  of  priesthood  which  the  Christian  who  is  alive  to 
his  relations  with  the  spiritual  world  may  not  find  repre- 
sented in  his  own  personal  experiences  and  actions.  And 
the  end  of  sacerdotalism  will  have  arrived  when  men  in 
general  come  to  realize  the  sacredness  and  dignity  of  their 
own  lives  as  spiritual  beings.  There  will  always  be  priests 
in  the  world.  Of  that  the  spiritual  instincts  and  needs  of 
mankind  will  certainly  take  care.  And  there  will  be  pi-iestly 
assumptions  and  attempts  at  domination  as  long  as  men 
remain  too  worldly  or  too  indolent  to  claim  this  office  for 
themselves  individually,  as  a  part  of  their  natural  birth- 
right. 

Let  us,  then,  consider  what  is  meant  when  we  find  it  is 
.said  in  the  New  Testament  that  Christians   as   such   are 
priests  to  God.    What  are  priests  ?  and  in  what  way  is  that 
title  applied  to  Christians  in  general  ? 

We  may  mention  three  points  in  the  priestly  character 
which  we  may  appropriately,  and  in  full  sympathy  with  the 
teaching  of  the  New  Testament,  consider  to  be  transferred 
to  ourselves.  Firstly,  the  priest  is  set  apart  to  his  holy 
office  :  he  is  consecrated  or  ordained.  Secondly,  the  priest 
stands  in  communication  with  God  :  he  stands  in  God's 
presence.     Thirdly,  the  priest  offers  a  sacrifice. 

I.  Consecration. — If  the  priesthood  has  generally  been 
marked  off  in  various  ways  from  the  laity,  if  they  have  lived 
in  separate  dwellings,  if  they  have  generally  worn  a  profes- 
sional dress,  if  they  have  absented  themselves  from  certain 
entertainments,  and  have  not  shared  in  certain  pleasures  in 
themselves  innocent,  this  is  a  happy  symbol  of  that  self- 
denial  and  separation  from  the  world  which  ought  to  have 
a  place  in  every  life.  Of  course,  when  we  speak  of  separa- 
tion from  the  world,  we  do  not  mean  going  away  from 
mankind,  and  ceasing  to  take  an  interest  or  a  part  in  its 


MENziEs.]  THE  CHRISTIAN  FEIESTHOOD.  231 

concerns.  But  to  every  man  some  object  presents  itself, 
some  purpose  is  revealed,  which  he  feels  that  he  ought  to 
follow,  even  though  he  has  to  turn  away  from  many  other 
things  he  might  desire.  We  speak  of  a  man  having  an  in- 
ward call  to  the  ministry  when  he  feels  it  in  him  to  speak 
to  his  fellow-men  of  the  counsel  of  God  and  of  their  duty. 
It  is  a  limited  number  who  experience  this  call.  But  every 
man  has  a  call,  more  or  less  clear,  to  the  work  there  is  for 
him  to  do,  and  to  the  character  into  which  he  ought  to  grow 
up.  There  is  an  infinite  variety  of  calls,  as  there  are  infi- 
nite diversities  of  gifts  and  operations,  all  of  which  are 
needed  by  the  world,  to  help  its  many-sided  growth.  But 
each  of  us  has  his  call,  and  it  is  well  for  him  if  he  recog- 
nizes and  obeys  it.  It  points  him  to  the  work  which  for 
him  is  sacred  work,  and  for  which  he  ought  to  give  up  all 
besides,  to  buy  this  goodly  pearl.  And  there  is  a  secret  or- 
dination or  consecration,  though  at  the  hands  of  no  presby- 
tery or  bishop,  by  which  those  whose,  ears  are  open  to  the 
call  addressed  to  them  by  their  higher  selves  or  the  world's 
needs,  are  set  apart  in  their  appointed  sphere  for  the  service 
of  God.  The  call  may  come  in  a  very  homely  fashion,  but 
to  the  obedient  spirit  it  can  not  be  other  than  sacred  and 
religious.  A  man  may  feel  it  a  duty  to  support  his  aged 
parents,  and  give  up  for  them  his  savings  or  his  leisure.  A 
man  may  see  it  to  be  needful  for  the  health  of  his  spirit  to 
withdraw  from  society.  The  student  is  called  on  to  give  up 
his  ease  ;  the  practical  worker  among  men  may  be  obliged  to 
sacrifice  learning  :  these  are  but  symbols  of  the  great  self- 
consecration  which  in  one  form  or  another  all  are  called  to 
make.  To  all  of  us  there  presents  itself  in  one  shape  or 
another  the  ideal  with  its  beauty  and  its  crown  of  thorns. 
The  world  is  full  of  priests  unrecognized,  who  have  taken 
on  themselves  vows  of  faithfulness  and  poverty,  and  turned 
away  from  what  they  too  were  fitted  to  enjoy. 

In  this  sense,  then,  it  is  in  the  power  of  all  of  us  to  take 


232  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD.  [sermon  xiv. 

upon  ourselves  the  priestly  character.  Although  he  wears 
no  special  dress,  and  does  not  live  in  any  separate  abode, 
nor  in  any  way  give  himself  out  to  be  holier  than  other 
people,  yet  he  who  has  heard  God's  call  to  duty  and  has 
arisen  to  follow  it,  turning  away  from  other  pursuits  and 
pleasures,  is  in  the  highest  and  the  best  sense  a  priest  to 
God,  separated  from  the  world,  and  consecrated  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  highest. 

II.  Worship. — In  Judaism,  as  in  other  old  religions,  the 
priest  was  thought  to  possess  means  of  approaching  the 
Deity  which  ordinary  men  did  not  enjoy.  The  people  re- 
mained in  the  outer  court,  and  could  only  see  the  priest  pass 
inward  to  the  Holy  Place,  in  which  God  was  thought  to 
dwell  between  the  cherubim,  and  which  none  of  them  could 
hope  ever  to  enter.  In  Christianity  this  is  all  changed. 
We  do  not  believe  that  any  man,  or  any  set  of  men,  is  in 
possession  of  a  special  privilege  which  admits  them  to  God's 
presence,  while  others  are  excluded.  And  the  reason  why 
we  do  not  believe  this  is,  that  Christianity  has  given  us  a 
new  conception  of  where  God  dwells,  and  of  the  means  to 
be  used  to  approach  him.  Where  does  God  dwell  ?  Where 
shall  we  say  that  the  Most  High  is  to  be  found  ?  Not  in 
any  local  shrine,  not  in  any  church  with  doors  that  men  may 
shut  or  open.  We  can  not  go  to  him  upon  our  feet.  We 
can  not  send  a  message  to  him  through  another.  No  one 
can  go  to  him  instead  of  us,  if  we  do  not  go  ourselves.  No 
one  can  debar  us  from  his  presence,  if  we  wish  to  meet  with 
him.  God  is  a  Spirit,  and  He  dwells  in  our  spirits  :  that  is 
where  we  have  to  seek  him.  Our  spirits  are  the  temples  of 
the  living  God  :  in  our  spirits  only  can  we  meet  with  God 
or  Christ.  Our  worship,  therefore,  must  take  place  where 
no  one  but  ourselves  can  come  to  be  our  priest.  Of  that 
only  true  and  real  service  of  God  which  is  offered  in  the 
heart,  all  outward  services,  be  they  never  so  grand  and 
beautiful,  and  conducted  by  whatsoever  dignitaries,  are  but 


MENZiES.]  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD.  233 

types  and  shadows.  Our  solemn  march  along  the  aisle  up 
to  the  altar  where  He  dwells,  our  music  and  the  burning  of 
our  incense,  our  bowing  down  to  the  Most  Holy,  and  the 
offering  of  our  prayer  ;  the  absolution  we  receive,  the  sac- 
ramental grace,  the  benediction  with  which  we  are  sent 
forth  again  into  the  world,  all,  all  are  inward  and  unseen. 
The  outward  act  of  worship  does  but  faintly  symbolize  this 
inward  and  most  solemn  and  only  real  contact  with  Divin- 
ity. If  we  have  not  met  with  God  in  our  own  spirits,  we 
can  not  have  met  with  him  anywhere  ;  and  this  is  a  service 
from  which  no  one  can  exclude  us,  in  which  no  one  can  take 
our  place  or  represent  us. 

Shall  we  not  say,  then,  that  we  are  priests,  and  dwell 
each  one  of  us,  would  we  but  know  it,  in  the  precincts  of 
the  tabernacle  of  the  Most  High  ?  Each  of  us  has  bis  own 
sacred  place  of  which  he  is  the  guardian,  and  which  he  is 
charged  to  keep  pure  and  bright  for  the  sake  of  God  who 
loves  to  dwell  in  it.  If  we  keep  alive  the  worship  belong- 
ing to  this  sanctuary,  that  will  be  our  best  security  against 
forfeiting  our  liberty  to  a  superstitious  priesthood  or  an 
outworn  creed.  How  can  we  let  any  one  stand  between 
God  and  our  conscience,  when  we  know  that  he  is  with  us 
in  the  hidden  shrine  to  which  we  can  at  any  time  repair  ? 
How  can  we  allow  the  conclusions  of  men  long  dead  to  be 
the  standard  of  our  faith,  when  those  relations  which  they 
interpreted  in  the  way  suited  to  their  age  are  present  and 
living  in  ourselves  ? 

III.  Sacrifice. — The  third  point  in  regard  to  which  it 
may  well  be  said  that  Christ  has  made  us  all  priests  is,  that 
we  do  not  look  to  a  professional  priesthood  to  offer  sacri- 
fices for  us,  but  offer  sacrifice  to  God  ourselves.  In  the 
Jewish  religion  this  was  different.  There  was  a  particular 
way  in  which  the  thing  had  to  be  done  :  a  number  of  mi- 
nute formalities  had  to  be  observed,  and  the  priest  was  ac- 
quainted with  all  these,  so  that  the  worshiper  had  to  bring 


234  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD.  [sermon  xiv. 

his  sacrifice  to  the  priest,  and  get  him  to  offer  it  up  to  God 
upon  the  altar. 

But  if  God  dwells  in  our  spirits,  then  that  must  be  the 
place  where  our  sacrifice  has  to  be  offered.  And  there  no 
one  can  offer  it  except  ourselves.  And,  besides,  when  we 
consider  what  is  the  nature  of  the  sacrifice  which  Christians 
are  called  on  to  present  to  God,  we  see  that  in  such  a  matter 
no  one  can  possibly  take  our  place.  What  is  the  sacrifice 
God  asks  from  us  ?  It  is  nothing  outward,  nothing  that 
can  be  transferred  from  one  individual  to  another.  It  is 
nothing  different  fFom  ourselves.  It  is  just  ourselves.  It 
is  our  bodies,  the  apostle  says  ;  that  is  to  say,  our  whole 
personality,  not  a  dead  but  a  living  sacrifice,  not  a  careless 
but  a  holy  sacrifice,  not  a  material  or  mechanical  but  a  rea- 
sonable sacrifice.  And  if  we  are  to  offer  ourselves  to  God, 
then  it  is  not  an  occasional  or  formal  act  that  we  are  to 
bring  him,  but  all  we  are,  all  the  seasons  and  all  the  de- 
partments of  our  life — a  sacrifice  lasting  all  the  week  and 
growing  all  the  year.  This  is  the  true  sacrifice,  of  which 
all  others  are  but  types  and  suggestions.  The  cross  of 
Christ  does  not  supersede  it,  but  enables  and  encourages  us 
to  offer  it  more  simply  and  heartily.  It  need  not  express 
itself  in  any  special  phrase  or  outward  act ;  it  may  be  un- 
seen by  all  the  world.  When  we  intrust  the  direction  of 
our  life  to  the  highest  that  is  in  us,  when  we  yield  to  the 
Spirit  of  God  the  guidance  of  our  whole  activity,  and  take 
up  duty  with  the  cross  that  is  bound  to  it,  then  we  are  of- 
fering this  sacrifice,  and  are  the  true  successors  of  the  priest- 
hoods of  old  times. 

Let  it  not  be  said  that,  if  each  man  is  to  be  his  own 
priest,  we  shall  part  company  from  each  other,  and  cease  to 
find  in  relisjion  a  bond  of  union.  It  is  not  the  case  that  the 
purest  and  most  spiritual  faith  opens  the  door  to  unbounded 
individualism  or  makes  a  Church  impossible.  It  would  be 
a  poor  compliment  to  pay  to  the  Church,  to  imagine  it  to 


MENZiEs.]  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD.  235 

be  a  condition  of  her  existence  that  her  members  should  not 
give  full  heed  to  the  voice  of  the  Spirit  that  utters  itself 
within  them.  It  is  said,  and  historical  examples  are  cited 
to  support  the  statement,  that  when  men  cast  themselves 
upon  their  inner  consciousness  of  God,  each  man  comes  to 
have  a  religion  of  his  own,  and  common  action  becomes  im- 
possible. It  would  be  well  if  each  man  had  a  religion  of 
his  own,  and  not  merely  a  copy  of  his  neighbor's  ;  but  that 
should  lead  to  no  disintegration.  If  disintegration  has  at 
any  time  taken  place,  it  was  not  because  men  listened  too 
much,  but  because  they  did  not  listen  wisely  and  in  humil- 
ity, to  the  voice  of  God  in  their  hearts.  For  one  of  the 
first  words  that  we  hear  when  we  listen  reverently  to  that 
voice  is  one  which  bids  us  strive  after  unity  with  our  fellow- 
creatures.  In  retiring  to  the  secret  place  of  our  personal 
religion  we  are  not  fleeing  from  our  kind,  we  are  seeking 
that  which  most  truly  unites  us  with  them.  The  unity  to 
which  we  shall  contribute  by  being  true  to  our  best  inspira- 
tions may  not  be  identical  with  any  of  the  organizations 
now  existing  around  us  ;  but  it  will  be  something  greater. 
While  tolerant  to  those  symbols  and  institutions  which  at 
present  afford  in  their  degree  the  connection  with  each 
other  for  which  all  religious  hearts  must  yearn,  we  shall 
look  forward  to  a  nobler  fellowshii),  a  fellowship  based  not 
on  the  shifting  sands  of  intellectual  assent  or  the  needs  of 
to-day's  policy,  but  on  the  simple  recognition  that  in  their 
thirst  for  God  and  in  their  wish  to  serve  him  all  men  in 
proportion  to  their  sincerity  are  one. 


236  TEE  ASSEMBLING  OF  fsEKnoN  xv. 


XV. 

THE  ASSEMBLING  OF  OUESELYES 
TOGETHER. 

BY   THE   REV.   JAMES   NICOLL,    MUKROES,   FOUFAESHIRE. 

"  The  assembling  of  ourselves  together." — Heb.  x,  25. 

Man  is  eminently  a  social  being.  He  craves  for  and 
needs  the  company  and  cooperation  of  his  fellow-men. 
However  rude  may  be  his  condition,  he  is  at  least  capable 
of  associating  with  others.  Of  men  in  their  savage  as  well 
as  in  their  most  civilized  state,  it  may  always  be  said  with 
truth  that  their  nature  prompts  and  enables  them  to  "  as- 
semble together." 

No  doubt  the  kinds  of  association  that  we  see  among 
men  are  extremely  varied.  As  men  advance  out  of  igno- 
rance into  civilization  they  become  divided  into  different 
sections.  At  first  the  members  of  a  savage  community  are 
equally  familiar,  each  with  all  the  rest,  for  practically  there 
is  but  one  class  ;  but,  as  the  community  develops,  yarious 
classes  arise  ;  various  trades  and  interests  arise  ;  and  then 
we  find  that  men  begin  to  form  among  themselves,  as  it 
were,  sub-associations.  Different  grades  are  evolved.  The 
poor  come  to  sympathize  and  associate  with  each  other, 
and  form  a  society  by  themselves  ;  and,  in  like  manner,  the 
rich  form  their  society,  based,  too,  on  mutual  acquaintance 
and  sympathy.  And  so  it  comes  about  that  this  very  in- 
stinct of  union,  which  at  first  leagued  men  together,  at 
length,  in  effect,  works  disunion.     Whole  classes  bind  them- 


NicoLL.]  OURSELVES  TOGETHER.  237 

selves  together  in  opposition  to  other  classes.  Do  we  not 
sometimes  see  something  of  this  at  the  present  day  ?  The 
memhers  of  one  class  will  toil  for  each  other,  will  make 
sacrifices  for  each  other,  but,  then,  in  so  doing,  they  do 
not  hesitate  to  avow  that  the  interest  of  their  particular 
class  is  paramount,  and  opposed  to  that  of  other  classes. 
And  so  the  instinct  of  association,  which  at  first  bound  a 
community  together,  begins  by  and  by  to  split  it  up  and 
to  subdivide  it.  Each  man  seeks  to  associate,  not  with  his 
local  neighbors,  but  with  those  who  are  like-minded  or  like- 
interested  with  himself.  The  learned  seek  to  associate  with 
the  learned.  They  read  the  same  books  ;  they  discuss  the 
same  questions  ;  they  converse  through  the  same  periodi- 
cals ;  and  with  them  the  multitude  outside  holds  but  little 
or  no  communication.  The  ignorant  are  most  at  home  with 
the  ignorant.  They  yield  to  the  same  prejudices  ;  harbor 
the  same  superstition  ;  are  devoured  by  the  same  indiffer- 
ence ;  and  they  too  become  a  class  apart.  It  is  the  same 
with  the  rich  ;  the  same  with  the  poor  ;  the  same  with 
every  well-marked  difference  of  character  and  circumstance. 
All  are  seeking  to  obey  a  social  impulse.  All  are  seeking 
to  "  assemble  themselves  together  "  :  only,  whereas  at  first 
they  formed  together  but  one  compact  mass,  they  come 
latterly  to  be  cut  up  into  separate  and  even  hostile  sec- 
tions ;  and  the  danger  which  threatens  every  community 
which  has  reached  a  certain  stage  of  development  is,  that 
that  very  power  of  association,  which  at  first  impelled 
men  to  union,  may  latterly  impel  them  to  separation  and 
ruin. 

Now,  v/ere  this  all  that  were  to  be  said  of  man's  social 
capacity,  the  result  would  be  unsatisfactory  beyond  de- 
scription. We  should  see  only  one  invariable  law  of  na- 
ture dominating  all  human  action,  namely,  the  law  of,  first 
union,  and  then  dissolution.  We  should  see  nations  and 
communities  first  slowly  building  themselves  up,  and  reach- 


238  THE  ASSEMBLING   OF  [sermok  xv. 

ing  a  certain  height  of  prosperity  and  strength,  and  then 
gradually,  by  natural  necessity,  becoming  the  prey  to  inter- 
nal struggle  and  discord.  We  should  see,  first  of  all,  a  na- 
tion bound  together  by  a  vigorous  sentiment  of  patriotism 
inspiring  its  different  members,  and  then,  ultimately,  be- 
coming the  scene  of  dissensions  and  jealousies  among  its 
various  classes,  till  at  length,  either  by  internal  weakness 
or  external  violence,  its  place  was  taken  from  it  on  the 
earth.  And,  in  point  of  fact,  this  is  what,  not  once  or 
twice,  but  repeatedly,  has  been  witnessed  in  the  course  of 
history.  A  rude  tribe  of  warriors,  hardy  and  self-denying, 
has  "  assembled  itself  together,"  and  so  laid  the  foundation 
of  a  future  nation.  It  has  advanced,  and  conquered,  and 
become  civilized,  and  formed  a  vast  empire.  It  has  sub- 
jugated every  enemy,  fulfilled  every  ambition,  left  no  stone 
unturned  to  secure  and  perpetuate  its  greatness.  And  yet, 
why  has  it  disappeared  like  a  dream  from  the  woi'ld  ?  Why 
has  it  collapsed  in  the  moment  of  its  triumph,  and,  with 
steps  swifter  or  slower,  passed  into  oblivion  ?  Because  of 
the  play  of  that  very  instinct  of  association  which  at  first 
built  up  its  fortunes  and  its  strength.  The  various  classes 
into  which  it  had  become  divided  came  to  think  of  them- 
selves exclusively,  and  to  forget  the  common  weal.  The 
soldier  thought  of  himself  only  ;  the  merchant  of  himself  ; 
the  rich  cared  only  for  his  pleasures  and  his  privileges  ;  the 
poor,  no  longer  proud  of  simple  independence,  envied  the 
wealth  that  was  not  theirs.  And  so,  each  class  "  assembling 
itself  together  "  with  itself  only,  and  becoming  alienated 
from  all  other  classes,  the  community  became  broken  up 
into  contending  fragments.  This  is  what  has  been  seen  in 
the  past,  and  may  possibly  be  repeated  in  the  future.  The 
social  power,  therefore — the  capacity  that  enables  men  to 
"assemble  themselves  together" — would  not  of  itself  do 
great  things  for  mankind.  It  would  first  build  up,  indeed, 
but  then,  in  course  of  time,  it  would  as  infallibly  pull  down 


NicoLL.]  OURSELVES  TOGETHER.  239 

again.  It  would  first  bind  men  together  into  one  com- 
munity, and  then,  splitting  them  up  in  due  course  into 
various  sections  and  hostile  classes,  it  would  impel  them  to 
work  out  each  other's  ruin,  and  procure  their  common 
downfall. 

But  this  is  not  all  that  is  to  be  said.  The  social  instinct 
in  human  natui'e  has  been  laid  hold  of  by  a  mightier  power 
than  itself,  viz.,  the  power  of  I'eligion.  Religion  addresses < 
us  not  as  members  of  an  outward  society,  but  simply  as  ^ 
human  beings.  It  bids  us  unite  with  each  other,  not  as 
members  of  any  particular  community,  or  of  one  particular 
class,  but  as  partakers  of  the  same  common  nature.  It 
speaks  to  us,  not  as  rich  men  or  poor  men,  or  learned  or 
ignorant,  but  simply  as  men  having  the  same  hopes  and 
fears,  the  same  human  hearts,  the  same  human  sympathies. 
It  discounts  all  the  outward  distinctions  that  sejiarate  to 
the  eye  one  man  from  another  man,  and  stripping  them 
both  bare,  as  beneath  the  gaze  of  God,  says  the  same  thing 
to  each.  It  deals  with  a  region  of  experience,  where  all 
men  are  on  a  level,  and  where  all  men  understand  each 
other.  It  speaks  of  such  things  as  conscience,  guilt,  par- 
don, the  hope  of  future  bliss,  peace  and  rest  within.  And 
it  bids  men  as  beings  equally  interested  in  these  things,  as 
beings  having  an  equal  stake  in  them,  band  themselves 
together  and  form  a  union  on  that  ground.  As  human  be- 
ings it  tells  them  they  have  common  woes  ;  common  joys  ; 
commo.n  aspirations  ;  common  points  of  contact  each  with 
all  the  rest.  And  hence  religion,  because  it  takes  up  this 
position,  is  the  true  bond  that  permanently  binds  together 
men  as  such.  ISTo  other  bond  within  the  ken  of  human 
knowledge  is  there  that  can  long  hold  men  together.  As 
we  have  seen,  the  mere  social  instinct  in  man,  if  it  unites 
men  at  first,  ultimately  breaks  up  society  into  sections,  and 
separates  man  from  man.  Take  religion  out  of  human 
affairs,  and  leave  man  to  the  ordinary  play  of  natural  forces, 


240  THE  ASSEMBLING   OF  [sEKiioisr  xv. 

and  then,  however  closely  men  may  adhere  to  each  other 
for  a  time,  their  disunion  comes  sooner  or  later,  and  their 
unsubstantial  brotherhood  is  broken  up  and  dissolved.    The 
poor  will  rise  against  the  rich  ;  the  rich  will  hate  the  poor  ; 
the  many  will  tyrannize  over  the  few  ;  class  will  conspire 
against  class  ;  and  universal  disintegration  and  discord  will 
be  the  issue.     But  the  voice  of  religion  comes  to  us,  and, 
bidding  us  turn  from  those  outer  things  that  excite  by 
turns  our  ambitions  and  our  jealousies,  speaks  to  us  as  the 
inheritors  and  partakers  of  one  common  nature.     It  opens 
up  to  us  a  sphere  of  union  where  disintegration  and  aliena- 
tion need  have  no  place.     It  appeals  from  the  outer  acci- 
dents of  life  to  the  inner  essentials   of   being.     That  we 
have  to  deal  with  a  just  God,  unto  whom  all  secrets  are 
open,  all  desires  known  ;  that  we  ai*e  hastening  onward  to 
the  certain  grave  ;  that  we  bear  within  us  the  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility for  an  earthly  stewardship — with  vague  hopes 
that  we  can  not  always  justify,  and  vague  fears  that  we 
can  not  always  still  ;  that,  in  other  words,  we  are  more,  far 
more,  than  the  traders,  and  the  merchants,  and  the  scholars, 
the  rich  men  or  the  poor  men  of  outward  appearance — this 
does  religion  seek  to  make  the  ground  of  a  new  and  inex- 
haustible association.     It  seeks  to  bind  us,  to  make  us  "  as- 
semble ourselves  together"  on  the  basis  of  our  common 
humanity.     It  discloses  to  us  a  bond  of  union  which  can 
never  be  dissolved.    If  men,  yielding  to  the  social  necessity 
implanted  in  their  natures,  associate  on  any  narrower  basis, 
in  due  time  the  association  breaks  up  of  its  own  accord, 
and   disintegrates.      But  if   they  associate  on  the  broad 
ground  of  their  common  human  nature  disclosed  by  religion 
— seeking  to  understand  each  other  ;  seeking  to  sympathize 
with  each  other  ;  seeking  to  correct  and  stimulate,  and  en- 
courage and  exhort  each  other — then,  and  then  only,  is  their 
union  a  stable  union,  with  no  seeds  of   future  disruption 
lying  latent  in  its  bosom.     And  this  precisely  is  the  union 


NicoLL.]  OURSELVES  TOGETHER.  241 

jimong  men  which  religion  seeks  to  form  and  to  foster. 
The  Church  is  the  associating  of  men  together  simply  as 
men.  Alone  of  all  the  organizations  to  which  you  can 
point,  it  is  this.  Its  members  are  not  united  to  it  by  reason 
of  any  sympathy  based  on  similarity  of  calling,  or  simi- 
larity of  knowledge,  or  similarity  of  external  position. 
They  are  united  to  it,  not  as  rich  or  poor,  or  learned  or 
ignorant,  but  simply  as  the  possessors  of  a  common  human 
nature,  of  common  human  feelings,  of  common  human 
sorrows,  and  joys,  and  hopes.  Once  within  its  pale,  his 
riches  drop  from  the  rich  man,  his  poverty  from  the  poor, 
and  each  beholds  the  other  as  a  brother  soul,  with  common 
griefs  and  common  aspirations.  This  is  the  kind  of  union 
which  religion  aspires  to  effect.  It  underlies  and  guaran- 
tees all  the  other  associations  which  men  can  form  and  de- 
velop among  themselves.  It  brings  them  all  face  to  face 
with  each  other  and  with  God,  and  proclaims  that,  despite 
minor  differences  and  surface  distinctions,  all  men  are,  at 
heart,  brethren,  in  virtue  of  possessing  a  common  nature 
and  awaiting  a  like  destiny. 

Now,  this  being  so,  religion,  as  the  name  itself  implies, 
is  the  supremely  binding  force  in  human  affairs.  The  word 
religion  simply  means  that  which  binds  or  ties  together. 
Other  bonds  are  temporary,  other  unions  are  sure  to  be 
broken  up.  But  this  bond,  because  it  seizes  on  that  in  us 
which  is  common  to  us  all,  and  is  built  upon  our  essential 
brotherhood,  is  the  perpetual  sweetener  of  human  life,  the 
perpetual  restraint  on  human  passions,  the  perpetual  en- 
lightener  of  human  conscience,  the  perpetual  encourager  of 
human  hope.  Look,  my  friends,  upon  the  most  gigantic 
achievements  which  men  have  attained  to  by  cooperation  as 
workers,  or  statesmen,  or  conquerors,  and  you  have  no  guar- 
antee that  these  achievements,  splendid  as  they  seem,  will 
long  endure.  The  nation,  which  to-day  seems  strongest 
and  most  united,  may,  a  century  hence,  be  hastening  to  dis- 
11 


242  THE  ASSEMBLING   OF  [sermon  xv. 

solution.  The  community,  which  to-day  seems  harmoni- 
ous by  reason  of  its  industry  and  plenty,  may,  ere  long,  be 
in  the  throes  of  civil  war — man  flying  at  the  throat  of  his 
brother  man.  We  knorw  that  such  things  have  happened, 
and  what  has  happened  once  can  occur  again.  But  let  men 
be  united  together — not  by  mere  statecraft ;  not  by  peace 
and  plenty  only  ;  not  by  industry  only  ;  but  by  that  knowl- 
edge of  each  other's  real  and  deepest  wants,  by  genuine 
sympathy,  by  genuine  participation  in  each  other's  interest 
and  beneficence  ;  not  as  citizens  merely,  but  as  human  be- 
ings— in  one  word,  by  religion — let  this  be  the  union  that 
cements  and  unifies  a  nation  or  a  people  ;  and  then,  be  the 
trials  and  difiiculties  and  social  struggles  of  that  people 
what  they  may,  there  is  a  force  among  them  that  guaran- 
tees their  stability ;  that  will  clear  away  misunderstand- 
ings ;  that  will  discredit  violence  and  injustice,  and  stimu- 
late mercy  and  helpfulness,  as  between  individual  and  indi- 
vidual, and  class  and  class.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  let  the 
binding  force  of  religion  be  absent  from  a  community  ; 
let  men  forget  to  "  assemble  themselves  together  "  as  breth- 
ren ;  or  let  religion  become  a  mere  hollow  form,  without 
power,  or  love,  or  sympathy  ;  let  it  be  a  thing  of  phrases 
and  unintelligible  dogmas,  pretending  to  describe  that  which 
can  not  be  known,  and  forgetting  to  look  into  the  human 
heart  which  lies  close  at  hand — forgetting  to  be  simply 
truthful,  and  to  deal  with  the  soul's  life  as  it  actually  exists 
— then,  I  say,  let  a  nation's  prosperity  be  what  it  may,  the 
seeds  of  dissolution  are  there  notwithstanding,  slowly  ger- 
minating, and  destined  to  bring  forth  in  due  time  their 
terrible  fruits.  Men  will  not  cease  to  "  assemble  themselves 
together  " — to  associate  together  in  obedience  to  their  social 
instinct — no,  that  is  a  law  of  their  nature  and  can  not  be 
reversed  ! — but,  failing  to  unite  in  the  bonds  of  religion, 
they  will  unite  merely  in  those  of  class-selfishness,  in  those 
of  reckless  faction,  in  those  of  mutual  antipathy,  in  those 


NicoLL.]  OURSELVES  TOGETHER.  243 

of  estrangement  and  lawless  greed.  There  are  countries  in 
Europe  which  at  this  moment  are  threatening  to  illustrate 
these  words.  They  have  abandoned,  wholly  or  in  part,  the 
bond  of  sympathy  as  between  man  and  man  implied  in  the 
practice  of  real  religion,  and,  having  thus  parted  with  that 
power  which  alone  can  restrain  men's  passions,  and  incline 
them  to  justice,  and  mercy,  and  truth,  they  are  falling  back 
on  grim  force,  the  stronger  holding  the  weaker  against  its 
will ;  the  weaker  waiting  in  silent  hope  that  its  turn  will 
come  next.  That  is  the  union  imposed  by  external  force, 
and  not  the  unity  of  inner  life  ;  and  the  whole  teaching  of 
past  history  is  false,  if  such  a  state  of  matters  be  one  that 
can  long  continue. 

Such,  then,  is  the  bond  which  religion  seeks  to  f  orai  be- 
tween us.  Such,  in  its  widest  sense,  is  the  "  assembling  of 
ourselves  together  "  which  it  contemplates.  And  it  is  that 
wide  bond  of  sympathy,  making  each  seek  to  understand 
the  other,  Avhich  is  typified,  and  made  in  a  sense  visible,  by 
our  weekly  assembling  for  public  worship.  The  outer  and 
visible  thing  which  we  do  here  does  not  end  with  itself  ; 
it  is  meant  to  symbolize  a  far  wider  and  deeper,  even  if 
unseen,  union  subsisting  between  us  as  fellow-creatures  ac- 
countable to  the  same  Creator.  And  it  is  only  when  we 
remember  what  is  behind,  that  we  rightly  understand  the 
symbol.  It  is  not  real  religion,  merely  coming  together  out- 
wardly, and  participating  in  the  stated  rites  of  worship. 
Such  observances  have  no  power  of  themselves  to  bind  and 
consolidate  the  life  of  a  community  or  a  congregation.  It 
is  only  when  they  are  allied  with  heart-service — with  the 
desire  of  learning  truth  and  duty,  of  yielding  obedience  to 
the  will  of  God,  of  being  just,  and  true,  and  merciful  to 
our  neighbor — that  they  express  a  reality  and  become  a 
badge  of  brotherhood  between  man  and  man.  Nothing  less 
than  this  can  adequately  fill  up  the  sense  of  tlie  apostle's 
words — "  the  assembling  of  ourselves  together." 


244  THE  ASSEMBLING   OF  [seemon  xv. 

And,  yet,  let  us  not  disparage  the  outward  symbol.  Of 
all  beautiful  customs  in  this  world,  what  more  beautiful 
than  that  which  brings  together  once  a  week  the  inhabi- 
tants of  a  district,  without  respect  of  outward  distinctions, 
and  makes  them  blend  in  a  common  fellowship  of  praise 
and  worship  before  the  shrine  of  duty,  and  faith,  and  God  ? 
Here  at  least,  if  anywhere  on  earth,  should  men  forget  the 
mere  accidents  of  station  and  external  circumstance,  and 
strive  to  think  only  of  those  things  that  belong  to  them  in 
common  as  the  children  of  one  Father,  as  the  sharers  of 
common  cares  and  burdens,  as  all  equal  before  the  throne 
of  grace  and  mercy.  As  we  come  together,  not  to  know 
those  things  that  separate  us,  but  rather  those  that  unite 
us,  does  it  not  oftentimes  happen  that  the  sorrow  which  is 
bred  of  isolation  is  dispelled  before  the  larger  view  we  get 
of  life  beside  our  fellow-creatures  ?  The  grief  that  fed  on 
solitude,  the  care  and  disappointment  which,  in  the  loneli- 
ness of  our  private  dwellings,  may  have  assumed  exagger- 
ated proportions,  we  bring  them  here,  and,  lo  !  we  are  gen- 
tly rebuked  by  the  very  presence  of  our  neighbors,  and 
we  overcome  our  selfishness  or  self-love.  Here — if  else- 
where we  might  perhaps  forget  it — we  are  reminded  that 
others  have  their  trials  as  well  as  we.  Here — if  elsewhere 
faith  has  drooped  within  us,  and  life  has  seemed  poor  and 
unworthy,  and  we  have  asked  who  will  show  us  any  good 
— a  simple  word  has  recalled  us  to  our  better  thoughts,  and 
bid  us  take  heart  anew,  and  fight  once  more  the  fight  of 
principle  and  faith.  Those  things  which,  as  individuals,  we 
are  shy  and  backward  to  commune  about  with  one  another  ; 
those  sins  we  dare  not  confess  ;  those  weaknesses  and  trials 
we  can  not  tell,  but  can  only  brood  upon,  we  here  give  ut- 
terance to  ;  and  the  language  of  public  prayer,  and  the 
voice  of  exhortation,  and  the  song  of  gratitude  give  expres- 
sion to  our  pent-up  feelings,  and  we  have  relief.  Yes, 
there  is  a  dignity  in  our  assembled  gatherings  that  does 


NicoLL.]  OUBSELVES  TOGETHER.  245 

not  belong  to  us  as  isolated  individuals.  There  is  a  bless- 
ing where  two  or  three  are  met  together,  that  hides  itself 
from  only  one.  The  petty  things  that  belong  to  us  as 
units  drop  from  us  in  the  larger  atmos23here  of  fellowship 
with  one  another,  and,  by  simple  contact  with  our  fellow - 
Christians,  we  are  elevated  out  of  the  commonness  and  de- 
pression of  our  solitary  lives.  Week  by  week  the  muster- 
roll  seems  read  as  we  assemble  ourselves  together,  and  ever 
and  again  some  well-known  form  disappears,  while  others 
come  and  take  the  vacant  place.  There  seems  to  be  ever 
a  twofold  congregation  at  the  spot  where  we  meet :  the 
one  we  see,  the  other  that  we  can  not  any  longer  see,  but 
can  only  recall.  Flashes  of  memory  will  anon  people  pews 
with  faces  now  no  more — and  yet  we  remember  that,  even 
where  the  living  meet  to  cement  their  solemn  league,  the 
departed  rest  in  the  silent,  expectant  majesty  of  the  grave. 
Death  does  not  wholly  sunder  us  from  "  the  assembling  of 
ourselves  together,"  for  when  our  appointed  day  is  done, 
and  the  spirit  goes  to  Him  who  gave  it,  it  is  here,  beside 
the  place  which  religion  has  made  its  own,  that  we  hope  to 
lay  our  ashes,  and  to  await  the  future  call.  What  more 
beautiful  custom  can  there  be  than  that  which  links  in  life 
and  death  generation  to  generation,  and  testifies  to  the 
underlying  unity  that,  beneath  all  diversities,  unites  the 
souls  of  men  before  the  eye  of  the  almighty  God  ? 

Let  us,  then,  as  we  repair  to  our  accustomed  place  of 
worship,  remember,  in  the  light  of  what  I  have  been  say- 
ing, the  great  object  of  our  weekly  gatherings.  Here  we 
meet  for  ends  only  peaceful ;  here  we  meet  to  renew  and 
strengthen  the  bonds  of  brotherly  sympathy  ;  to  symbolize 
our  community  of  faith  and  hope  and  joy  before  our  IMaker. 
May  that  which  by  its  very  design  points  us  to  the  widest 
and  deepest  aspects  of  our  common  nature  never  be  per- 
verted by  our  thoughtlessness  or  obstinacy  into  a  badge  of 
separateness  or  aloofness  from  our  fellow-men  !     For,  of  all 


246         ASSEMBLING  OF  OURSELVES  TOGETHER,    [sermon  xv. 

perversions  of  the  sacred  symbol  of  public  worship,  that 
surely  is  the  blindest  and  the  most  mischievous  which  de- 
grades the  high  token  of  human  brotherhood  into  the  occa- 
sion of  earthly  jealousy  and  dissension.  When  such  per- 
versions are  suffered,  not  only  do  the  outward  rites  of  reli- 
gion lose,  as  it  were,  their  very  soul :  they  become  active 
sources  of  alienation  and  mutual  misunderstanding ;  and 
Religion  herself,  so  far  as  affected  by  her  visible  representa- 
tives, forfeits  her  unique  rank  among  the  binding  elements 
of  humanity,  to  take  a  lower  place  among  those  partial  and 
unstable  associations,  whose  duration,  however  long,  is 
never  more  than  temporary  and  accidental.  Here,  then,  we 
meet  not  to  separate  ourselves  from  others,  but  to  remem- 
ber our  essential  fellowship  with  them.  Here  we  meet  to 
worship  One  who  is  the  Father  of  all,  and,  in  the  recogni- 
tion of  his  relationship  to  us,  to  recognize  also  our  mutual 
bonds  to  one  another  ;  that  so  we  may  promote  that  great 
fellowship  of  justice  and  love  and  mercy,  which  to  exhibit 
in  our  daily  lives  is  both  our  greatest  homage  to  God  and 
his  best  reward  to  us.  We  meet  here  to  cultivate  this 
spirit ;  to  meet  each  other  on  common  universal  ground  ;  to 
share  each  other's  fears,  and  hopes,  and  faith  ;  to  correct 
each  other's  waywardness  if  need  be  ;  to  provoke  and  en- 
courage each  other  to  love  and  good  works  ;  and  so  help 
each  other  along  "  the  trivial  round,  the  common  task,"  that 
mark  out  for  most  of  us  the  actual  sphere  of  duty  and  ser- 
vice. May  this  idea  of  true  religion  never  forsake  us,  nor 
we  it  ;  and  may  this  sacred  edifice  long  stand  to  witness  to 
the  reality  of  the  human  soul's  fellowship  with  God  through 
Christ ! 


RAIN.]  lA'DIVIDUALISM  A^W  THE  CHURCH. 


247 


XYI. 
INDIVIDUALISM  AND  THE  CHURCH. 

BY  THE  RET.  THOMAS  RAIN,  W.  A.,  BUTTON,  DUMFRIESSHIRE, 

"In  this  place  is  one  greater  than  the  temple."— Matt,  sii,  6. 
"The  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  Sab- 
bath."— Mark  ii,  27. 

These  two  sayings  of  our  Lord  belong  to  one  another, 
and  we  may  call  the  latter  the  complement  of  the  former. 
In  the  verse  taken  from  Matthew  He  claims  an  extraordi- 
nary position  for  himself,  and  in  that  from  Mark  He  makes 
the  same  claim  on  behalf  of  mankind.  The  claim  made  is 
this  :  that  the  individual  soul  possesses  rights  superior  to 
ecclesiastical  organizations,  and  by  implication  to  all  other 
organizations  that  may  be  set  up.  For  the  principle  enun- 
ciated is  so  great  and  deep  that  it  may  be  universally  ap- 
plied. The  living  soul,  He  seems  to  tell  us,  is  Lord  of  all 
earthly  powers,  and  particularly  of  all  institutions  and 
mechanisms  which  as  vehicles  of  its  thought  it  may  choose 
to  frame.  It  is  the  creator  of  these.  But  for  it,  the  vital 
principle,  they,  the  body,  had  not  been  ;  and,  when  through 
ignorance  or  sluggishness  it  forgets  this  fact  and  lets  its 
own  creature  rule  over  it,  it,  Esau-like,  sells  its  birthright. 

Such  a  doctrine  must  have  come  with  startling  effect 
upon  the  Pharisees  who  heard  it  uttered  ;  though  they 
would  hardly  apprehend  all  it  meant,  and  may  have  re- 
garded it  as  the  wild  utterance  of  an  egoistical  enthusiast. 
That  it  contained  a  spiritual  principle  Avhich  is  eternally  at 


248  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH,     [sermon  xvi. 

war  with  all  like  them  in  the  world  would  hardly  enter 
their  thoughts,  and  possibly  some  of  them  deemed  it  so 
visionary  as  to  be  harmless.  But  others  would  at  least  note 
that  the  enthusiast  had  threatened  the  Temple,  which  was 
the  palladium  of  their  system,  and  the  Sabbath-day,  which 
was  an  important  outwork  of  it.  I  doubt  if  the  most  ec- 
clesiastically-minded among  us  can  realize  the  obstinacy 
with  which  a  latter-day  Pharisee  would  revere  the  Temple 
at  Jerusalem.  For  even  orthodoxy  in  our  day  is  less  rigid 
than  it  was  then,  and  we  are  constitutionally  of  a  less  stub- 
born temperament  than  the  Jews.  Besides,  at  that  time 
in  Palestine  the  recovery  of  political  freedom  was  thought 
dependent  on  the  continuance  of  the  national  religion  ;  and 
to  threaten  or  disparage  the  Temple  was  like  damping  pa- 
triotic aspirations.  It  and  the  ordinances  gathered  round 
it  were  expected  to  form  a  rallying  principle  for  the  na- 
tion, and  the  Jew  who  spoke  against  it  was  marked  down 
for  a  traitor,  no  less  than  a  heretic. 

Therefore,  I  hardly  know  another  saying  of  our  Lord's 
that,  from  the  priestly  point  of  view,  looks  so  revolutionary 
as  these.  For  they  cut  away  the  very  ground  on  which 
priesthoods  take  their  stand,  and,  were  their  principle  uni- 
versally recognized,  there  Avould  be  no  room  for  sacerdotal- 
ism anywhere.  Like  Noah's  dove,  it  would  find  no  rest  for 
the  sole  of  its  foot,  but  would  be  driven  back  to  the  place 
whence  it  came  out,  the  uncivilized  or  half-civilized  under- 
standing. But  unhappily  the  world  is  ruled  to  a  very  small 
extent  by  spiritual  principles,  and  to  a  very  large  extent  by 
expediency  and  the  imitative  instinct ;  one  consequence  of 
which  is  that  priesthoods  have  abounded  and  do  abound. 
Further,  we  need  not  expect  them  to  be  extinguished  in 
our  time,  or  our  children's  time,  and  it  is  probably  better 
that  they  should  exist  yet  awhile.  Had  they  never  been 
necessary  to  the  world's  development,  they  had  never  been 
in  it,  and,  were  they  altogether  useless  to-day,  they  would 


RAIN.]  INDIVIDUALISM  AND  THE  CnURCII.  249 

speedily  disappear.  It  is  because  there  is  still  a  certain  co- 
adaptation  between  the  spirit  of  man  and  the  overgrown 
Romish  hierarchy,  as  well  as  other  hierarchies,  which, 
though  disclaiming  Rome,  are  yet  its  satellites,  that  Popery 
so  successfully  holds  its  ground.  But,  as  man  advances, 
sacerdotalism  must  retrograde  ;  as  he  comes  to  a  clearer 
consciousness  of  the  powers  within  himself,  he  will  give  less 
heed  to  external  guides  to  truth,  though  they  be  never  so 
venerable. 

Our  subject,  then,  is  Individualism  and  the  Church. 
That  is  to  say,  we  have  to  show  in  what  relationship  Chris- 
tianity would  have  the  soul  stand  to  ecclesiastical  institu- 
tions :  how  under  one  form  of  the  relationship  such  insti- 
tutions are  of  great  value,  while  under  another  form  of  it 
they  are  turned  into  a  curse.  It  is  a  large  subject,  and 
exhaustive  treatment  of  it  can  not  be  pretended  to  ;  but 
some  consideration  of  its  more  important  aspects  may  have 
its  uses. 

Institutions  are  to  be  the  servant  of  man,  says  Christ : 
liable  to  modification,  to  increase  or  diminution,  to  total 
annihilation,  as  the  needs  of  his  spirit  may  determine.  He 
is  to  have  entire  power  over  them  as  the  potter  has  power 
over  the  clay,  and  may  mold  them  to  his  several  purposes, 
or,  if  it  suit  him  better,  may  break  them  under  his  foot. 
Like  the  ancient  slave,  relatively  to  his  master,  they  are 
to  be  wholly  in  his  hands  for  life  or  death.  The  world  in 
which  he  lives  is  a  place  of  ceaseless  transformation,  and, 
as  other  conditions  of  his  life  change,  Christianity  gives 
him  the  power  of  changing  also  the  institutions  in  which 
his  faith  is  enshrined.  Creeds  and  ordinances  conformable 
to  one  age  may  not  be  conformable  to  the  next,  and  man 
is  to  judge  how  far  and  in  what  direction  they  need  modi- 
fication. The  right  of  adding  to  or  taking  from  them  is 
given  by  God  into  his  hand.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  our 
Lord. 


250  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH,    [sermon  xvi. 

But  the  doctrine  of  all  priesthoods  is  the  opposite  of 
this ;  for  they  make  man  the  servant  of  ecclesiastical  in- 
stitutions, which  they  hedge  about  with  theories  of  divine 
right  that  bristle  with  clever  logic.  With  arguments  which 
may  be  drawn  from  grounds  of  expediency  or  from  the 
sentiment  of  reverence,  in  favor  of  retaining  old  institu- 
tions, there  need  be  no  quarrel.  It  is  a  different  thing 
when  it  is  argued  that  they  stand  above  man,  and  that  his 
part  is  simply  to  bow  down  to  them.  When,  according  to 
this  theory,  the  divine  afflatus  comes  into  the  world,  it  is 
through  a  corporate  body — a  huge  piece  of  mechanism — 
that  it  comes,  and  not,  as  in  old  prophetic  times,  through 
the  individual  soul — some  lonely  soul  that  thought  had 
driven  into  the  desert.  The  Roman  Pontiff  may  be  de- 
scribed as  the  axis  of  this  mechanism,  and  his  cardinals, 
bishops,  fathers,  and  councils,  with  all  their  picturesque 
symbolisms,  as  well  as  sacerdotally -minded  Protestants,  as 
machinery  revolving  round  him.  These  form  the  elaborate 
body  which  God  out  of  his  mere  good  pleasure  has  elected 
to  frame  for  the  truth,  and  apart  from  this  body  satisfac- 
tory knowledge  of  the  truth  need  not  be  hoped  for.  Ordi- 
nary mortals,  who  may  not  be  bishops  or  fathers,  must  yet 
adhere  to  this  mechanism  as  unimportant  atoms  of  it,  or 
they  *'  will  without  doubt  be  damned  everlastingly  "  !  So 
declares  priestcraft. 

Time  was,  of  course,  when  human  nature  needed  such 
representations  of  God  and  spiritual  things  to  excite  its  rev- 
erence, and,  had  the  Word  not  been  made  flesh  in  the  sacer- 
dotal form,  it  had  probably  gained  fewer  votaries.  The 
fact  may  hold  good  to  some  extent  yet,  and  we  need  have 
no  quarrel  with  it ;  but  with  those  who  say  that  in  its  nature 
it  is  divine,  that  it  is  unchanging  and  indestructible,  as  Prot- 
estants we  are  forced  to  quarrel.  Such  a  state  of  things,  we 
hold,  is  necessarily  provisional,  and  useful  and  admirable 
when  recognized  as  such  ;  but,  when  endowed  with  infal- 


KAiN.J  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH.  251 

libility,  called  sacred  and  eternal,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  a 
great  mischief.  That  it  should  ever  have  been  so  regarded 
is  not  altogether  strange,  but  that  amid  modern  enlighten- 
ment such  a  view  should  be  persisted  in,  and  by  men  of 
genius  and  virtue,  seems  to  me  passing  strange. 

How  it  came  that  purely  human  ordinances  were  first 
invested  with  divine  qualities,  said  to  be  inspired,  and 
deemed  of  supernatural  authority,  appears,  when  we  think 
of  it,  plainer  than  many  things.  It  is  closely  connected 
with  the  deep  reverence  all  ages  feel  toward  a  great  man, 
and  the  faculty  they  lack  for  rightly  comprehending  him. 
A  few,  of  course,  have  clear  enough  spiritual  perception  to 
distinguish  between  his  essential  truths  and  the  outward 
covering  of  them,  but  this  is  not  a  gift  that  in  its  integrity 
falls  to  many.  What  the  people  fix  their  minds  upon  are 
the  material  forms  which  their  revered  hero  laid  hold  of  as 
vehicles  of  expression,  and  through  which  his  moral  nature 
flowed  into  action.  They  perceive  that,  working  through 
these,  he  achieved  magnificent  results,  and  then  infer,  in- 
nocently enough,  that  some  special  virtue  must  belong  to 
them.  It  will  depend  on  the  bent  of  the  man's  genius, 
the  accident  of  his  social  position,  the  age  and  country  he 
lives  in,  what  these  forms  shall  be.  They  may  be  this  or 
that  theological  theory,  a  political  institution,  an  education- 
al system,  some  special  mode  of  exercising  self-restraint,  of 
gaining  moral  stimulus,  and  always  that  for  which,  in  the 
circumstances,  his  nature  has  affinity.  They  are  called  up 
by  his  mind  spontaneously,  almost  unconsciously,  and  are 
always  found,  when  tried,  to  help  him  to  his  object.  But 
his  time  comes  and  death  takes  him  away.  The  forms,  how- 
ever, are  left  behind  him,  all  shining  with  a  wondrous  radi- 
ance ;  and  it  is  not  usually  considered  that  it  is  a  reflected 
and  not  an  inherent  radiance  which  gilds  them.  Whether 
it  came  out  of  their  originator's  spirit,  or  is  native  to  the 
forms,  is  a  question  not  patiently  examined  ;  and  hence,  in  a 


252  INDIVIDUALISM  AND  THE  CHURCH,    [sermon  xvi. 

generation  oi-  two,  we  have  the  forms  irrationally  exalted, 
while  the  mind  that  throbbed  behind  them  is  forgotten.  It 
is  not  consciously  or  designedly  forgotten,  but  to  cling  to 
the  letter  and  neglect  the  spirit  seems  a  failing  inseparable 
from  popular  thought.  In  the  most  of  us,  by  nature,  the 
senses  are  more  active  than  the  intellect,  so  that  the  exter- 
nal details  of  a  life,  its  outward  vesture,  are  more  readily 
apprehended  than  its  soul  or  principle.  Only  to  a  thought- 
ful individual  here  and  there  does  it  occur  that  the  forms 
through  which  the  great  man  worked  were  accidental,  and 
more  the  product  of  the  time  he  lived  in  than  of  himself. 
Had  the  general  circumstances  been  different,  their  charac- 
ter would  have  been  different  too.  It  was  the  living  spirit 
of  the  thinker,  and  not  his  machinery,  that  worked  the  signs 
and  wonders.  Were  not  this  the  case,  no  age  need  ever 
perish  through  lack  of  power ;  for  always  the  symbols  of 
dead  prophets  are  lying  about  like  fossils  in  the  rocks  to 
help  it.  But,  alas  !  they  do  not  help  it,  and,  apart  from  the 
soul  that  gave  them  being,  can  not  help  it,  any  more  than 
the  magician's  rod  can  conjure  without  the  magician.  To 
fancy  they  can  is  like  fancying  you  could  paint  sublimely  if 
you  had  Raphael's  brush,  or  become  a  great  violinist  with 
Paganini's  violin.  The  fallacy  of  such  a  fancy  is  patent, 
and  we  know  that  the  musician's  and  painter's  art  comes  by 
a  less  ready  method.  Yet  it  is  on  a  strictly  analogous  mis- 
take that  sacerdotalism  is  founded,  and  the  mistake  has 
quite  as  absurd  an  aspect  in  the  latter  case  as  in  the  former. 
It  is  fully  as  irrational  to  expect  that  by  such  legerdemain 
you  can  cultivate  the  religious  life  as  to  think  you  can  gain 
by  it  artistic  dexterity. 

Such  considerations,  I  think,  if  properly  used,  form  a 
key  that  lays  open  to  us  the  mental  process  by  which  church 
organizations  have  been  raised  above  the  individual  soul  ; 
and  explain  how,  long  ago,  the  Sabbath  was  made  more 
than  man,  and  the  Temple  more  than  Christ.     It  is  an  error 


BADT.]  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH.  353 

incident  to  a  period  of  civilization  when  the  senses  are  yet 
regnant,  and  the  deep  powers  of  thought  undeveloped. 

'  The  Saviour's  principle,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  out- 
come of  a  look  into  life  with  the  clear  eye  of  the  spirit. 
What  he  perceived  was  this  :  that  there  is  always  the  be- 
lieving man,  God-created  and  God-inspired,  and  after  him 
this,  that,  and  the  other  institution.  Given  the  devout  soul, 
and  churches  become  possible  ;  without  this  they  are  wholly 
impossible.  For,  as  the  web  comes  out  of  the  spider,  creeds, 
ordinances,  and  polities  come  forth  from  the  inner  life  of 
man  ;  and  their  character  is  in  strict  harmony  with  the  char- 
acter of  that  inner  life.  When  the  thinking  soul  conceives 
its  idea  comprehensively,  and  in  a  form  corresponding  to 
the  general  convictions  of  the  age,  the  institution  reared 
upon  it  is  sure  to  be  influential.  The  superficial,  eccentric 
idea,  on  the  other  hand,  does  not  become  a  jDrinciple  of 
organization  so  readily,  and  when  it  does  succeed  its  influ- 
ence is  limited.  Some  insignificant  sect  may  be  formed 
out  of  it — for  every  age  has  its  proportion  of  minds  that 
love  the  fantastic — but  no  wide-spreading  Church. 

Another  circumstance  to  be  observed  is  this  :  that  every 
idea  which  is  congruous  with  the  age  it  appears  in,  every 
idea  that  marks  a  new  epoch  in  culture,  spontaneously 
weaves  a  body  for  itself  ;  and  there  is  little  need  of  distinct 
conscious  effort  being  made  to  give  it  fitting  organization. 
I  suspect  it  is  rather  ill  than  well  with  man  when  he  says 
deliberately  to  himself,  "  Now  we  have  got  a  great,  fresh 
thought  among  us,  let  us  found  an  institution  to  preserve 
it."  For  it  belongs  specially  to  the  nature  of  such  thoughts 
to  build  a  habitation  for  themselves,  and  to  do  so  by  a  noise- 
less, almost  unconscious  process.  The  idea  takes  the  me- 
chanical faculties  into  its  service,  and  these  weave  for  it  a 
material  vesture,  but  so  completely  are  they  subject  to  the 
idea  that  they  know  not  precisely  what  they  are  about. 
Their  aim  is  not  to  produce  this  or  that  well-proportioned 


254  li^BIVlDUALISM  AND  THE  CHURCH,    [seemon  xvi. 

institution  of  which  they  knew  the  plan  beforehand,  but 
they  act  as  though  they  were  inspired,  and  simply  to  satisfy 
the  feeling  of  the  hour.  And  this  process,  time  after  time 
repeated,  and  earned  on  sometimes  for  ages,  will  generally 
result  in  an  organization  of  great  strength  and  adaptability. 
For,  as  we  have  often  been  reminded  in  our  time,  "  institu- 
tions are  not  made,  but  grow  "  ;  which  is  a  most  correct 
observation,  and  is  admirably  illustrated  in  the  case  of  the 
Church  visible.  That  grew  up  gradually  out  of  the  needs 
and  aspirations  in  which  the  spiritual  consciousness  from 
time  to  time  expressed  itself  ;  and  all  that  is  best  in  it  is 
the  product  of  the  understanding  incited  by  the  spirit,  not 
working  mechanically  by  itself.  There  must  always  be  the 
living  soul  ere  there  can  be  a  well-proportioned  body,  as 
Spenser  in  his  "  Hymn  to  Beauty  "  teaches  : 

"  For  of  the  soul  the  body  form  doth  take, 
For  soul  is  form,  and  doth  the  body  make." 

But  how  the  soul  passes  into  material  substance,  building 
itself  a  temple  and  filling  the  earth  with  firm  and  beautiful 
structures — beautiful  for  a  time  at  least —  I  profess  not  to 
understand.  It  is  a  mystery  which  I  can  not  fathom.  One 
thing,  however,  is  probable  :  that  no  great  historical  organ- 
ization ever  was  created  by  other  agency  than  I  have  here 
named,  viz.,  an  impassioned  life,  often  a  religious  faith, 
subsisting  in  the  heart  of  man.  Patient  contriving  of  the 
understanding,  knowing  adaptation  of  means  to  ends,  never 
of  itself  created  such  an  institution.  These  have  generally 
been  a  valuable  auxiliary  in  the  work  ;  but  the  moving, 
masterly  power  is  always  an  illuminating  thought,  a  burn- 
ing conviction  in  the  mind  of  some  individual.  The  Sav- 
iour understood  all  this,  and  in  conformity  with  it  enthroned 
the  living  soul — the  divine  soul  and  the  human  we  may  say, 
his  own  and  that  of  man — above  the  venerablest  institutions : 
"  I  say  unto  you,  that  in  this  place  is  one  greater  than  the 


EAJN. 


INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH.  255 


temple  "  ;  "  The  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man 
for  the  Sabbath." 

Let  us  look  in  a  genera!  way  at  the  conceptions  of  truth 
that  are  involved  in  these  several  principles.    What  is  truth  ? 
is  a  very  ancient  question,  and  has  been  answered  in  a  thou- 
sand varieties  of  ways.     It  has  also  been  declared  incapable 
of  any  answer  that  is  trustworthy.     I  would  not  add  one 
more  to  the  endless  definitions  of  it  that  have  been  framed. 
My  object  is  to  show  what  idea  Ecclesiasticism  and  Indi- 
vidualism have  each  got  about  its  relation  to  the  under- 
standing.     Do  they  represent  it  as  that  with  which  the 
understanding  has  a  necessary  connection,  or  as  a  thmg  of 
foreign  texture,  which  only  makes  the  mind  its  temporal 
habit'at,  and  which,  like  the  ancient  eremite  relative  to  the 
world,  lodges  in  it  without  being  of  it  ?    Has  it  a  subjective 
or  objective  origin  ?   is  it  indigenous  to  consciousness,  or 
something  imported  into  it  ?     The  view  which  a  particular 
system  or  institution  takes  of  such  a  question  will  have  a 
strong  influence  on  its  practical  line  of  action,  and  we  can 
not  appreciate  rightly  the  practical  value  of  Ecclesiasticism 
and  Individualism  till  we  ascertain  the  way  in  which  they 
answer  it.     It  is  their  speculative  conceptions  of  truth,  their 
theory  as  to  where  it  comes  from,  and  how  it  comes,  that 
determines  their  character,  and  gives  motive  to  their  policy. 
Now,  it  is  the  doctrine  of  Ecclesiasticism  in  its  integrity, 
and  as  represented  by  Rome,  that  the  human  soul  possesses 
no  natural  faculty  for  apprehending  the  absolutely  true.    A 
certain  power  of  thought  is  admitted  to  it,  but  it  is  of  that 
mechanical  kind  which  gives  rise  to  industrial  life,  and  not 
of  the  spiritual  order  whence  come  the  doctrines  of  religion. 
These  doctrines  originate  without,  and  are  conveyed  by  an 
external  authority  into  the  mind,  which  forms  a  fitting 
nidus  for  their  reception,  but  between  them  and  the  nidus 
there  is  no  vital  union  possible.     The  fostering  care  of  the 
Church  is  needed  to  keep  them  active,  and  guard  them 


256  INDIVIDUALISM  AND  TEE  CHURCH.     |8eemon  xvi. 

against  corruption,  and  when  that  is  withdrawn,  or  if  it  be 
discarded,  they  instantly  disappear.  At  all  events,  their 
charm  ceases  to  work,  and  the  spiritual  principle  is  taken 
out  of  man's  life.  For  that  is  the  gift  of  the  Church,  and 
is  only  given  to  those  who  put  themselves  in  connection 
with  her  holy  ordinances. 

By  the  light  shed  from  this  doctrine,  we  readily  perceive 
why  Ecclesiasticism  should  have  been  so  fierce  an  opponent 
to  the  free  exercise  of  reason  in  judging  the  truth.  Its 
opposition  has  been  based  on  a  conviction  that  reason  and 
truth  were  two  things  essentially  different,  and  that  the 
former  could  not  tell  anything  reliable  about  the  latter.  It 
might,  no  doubt,  try  its  powers,  and  frame  theories  ;  but, 
because  between  it  and  what  it  theorized  about  there  was 
no  community  of  nature,  its  deductions  could  only  lead 
astray.  The  proper  place  for  reason,  therefore,  was  to  be 
chained  under  the  feet  of  ecclesiastical  authority.  And  no 
right-minded  Christian  would  expose  his  faith  to  its  laAvless 
criticism,  any  more  than  he  would  put  his  watch  for  adjust- 
ment into  the  hands  of  a  plowboy  or  a  savage.  In  both  cases 
the  operator  would  be  in  total  ignorance  of  what  he  operated 
upon,  and  the  result  would  be  pernicious.  Hence  Ecclesias- 
ticism has  regarded  every  new  encroachment  of  the  ration- 
alistic principle  as  so  much  territory  won  from  the  realm 
of  light  and  order,  and  put  under  the  dominion  of  anarchy. 
Hence  its  jealousy  of  philosophy  and  science,  of  democratic 
movements,  of  all  sorts  of  innovation,  and  its  exaltation  of 
the  past  at  the  expense  of  the  present.  That  inspiration  of 
the  Almighty  which  giveth  man — all  men — understanding, 
finds  no  acknowledgment  in  its  creed  ;  and  the  so-called 
inner  light  is  viewed  by  it  as  a  dangerous  Will-o'-the-wisp, 
to  be  guarded  against  continually. 

It  is  the  doctrine  of  Individualism,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  truth  in  its  nature  is  subjective,  a  part  of  the  spiritual 
consciousness,  and  necessarily  involved  in  it.    This  doctrine 


KAiN.]  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CTIURCn.  257 

is  scattered  all  tliroiigli  the  prophetic  writings  of  the  Bible, 
and  is  sometimes  stated  there  with  antique  Hebraic  vehe- 
mence. We  meet  with  it  under  a  very  beautiful  form  in 
Deuteronomy,  and,  if  the  modern  theory  of  that  book's  ori- 
gin be  correct,  it  is  a  strange  place  to  find  it :  "  For  this 
commandment,  which  I  command  thee  this  day,  it  is  not 
hidden  from  thee,  neither  is  it  far  off  :  it  is  not  in  heaven, 
that  thou  shouldest  say,  Who  shall  go  up  for  us  to  heaven, 
and  bring  it  unto  us,  that  we  may  hear  it  and  do  it  ?  Neither 
is  it  beyond  the  sea,  that  thou  shouldest  say.  Who  shall  go 
over  the  sea  for  us,  and  bring  it  unto  us,  that  we  may  hear 
it  and  do  it  ?  But  the  word  is  very  nigh  unto  thee,  in  thy 
mouth,  and  in  thy  heart,  that  thou  mayest  do  it." 

Here  is  the  profoundest  spiritual  truth  stated  in  quaint, 
picturesque  fashion,  but  so  simply  that  he  who  runs  may 
read.  To  form  a  correct  philosophy  of  religion  I  do  not 
think  we  need  add  much  to  what  this  passage  gives  us.  If 
we  bring  to  explicit  consciousness  the  ideas  that  are  latent 
in  it,  and  give  them  an  orderly  setting,  it  will  be  enough. 
I  would  be  satisfied  with  emphasizing  the  general  fact  that 
religious  truth  is  by  this  passage  placed  on  an  internal  and 
personal  basis.  It  is  represented  as  that  which  springs  up 
in  the  hidden  depth  of  man's  soul,  and  for  which  God  has 
prepared  no  other  place  than  this  hidden  depth.  This  is 
the  Christian  view  ages  before  the  coming  of  Christ :  and 
we  can  fearlessly  admit  that  there  is  a  real  sense — more  real 
than  is  known  to  dogmatic  exegesis — in  which  the  Saviour 
may  be  found  in  the  Old  Testament  books.  Neither  shalt 
thou  sav,  Lo  here  it  is  in  this  church  !  nor,  Lo  there  it  is  in 
that  ceremony  !  for  "  the  kingdom  of  God  is  within  you  " 
is  a  word  that  was  sounded  by  the  ancient  prophets  long 
before  He  sounded  it  who  is  the  Light  of  the  World.  The 
kinirdom  of  God  is  within  us,  but  of  its  times  and  ways  of 
coming  unto  us  no  man  knoweth.  In  all  ages  there  have 
been  thousands  who  imagined  they  could  know — there  arc 


258  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CEURGH.    [sermon  xvi. 

thousands  among  ourselves.  But  the  grandest  treatise  ever 
given  to  the  world  on  this  subject  is  the  half-dozen  words 
of  Jesus  to  Nicodemus,  which  say,  in  effect,  that  there  can 
be  no  treatise.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and 
thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
Cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth  :  so  is  every  one  that  is  born 
of  the  Spirit."  The  Holy  Spirit's  work  is  as  mysterious  as 
the  wind,  says  the  Lord  ;  and,  in  this  winged  sentence,  the 
whole  race  of  theological  triflers  and.  pedants  have  their 
trifling  and  pedantry  rebuked. 

It  is  desirable  to  say  something  about  the  way  in  which 
Ecclesiasticism  and  Individualism  stand  related  to  the  ques- 
tion of  evidence.  Probably  there  never  was  an  age  when 
the  question  was  surrounded  by  so  much  interest  as  it  is  at 
present.  Persons,  who  by  every  circumstance  of  their  life 
are  outside  the  learned  and  controversial  classes,  are  pon- 
dering it  with  anxiety  ;  and  new  books  relating  to  it  find 
their  way  not  only  into  the  scholar's  study,  but  into  the 
homes  of  public  men  and  men  of  business.  Women,  and 
youths  too,  read  that  the  dear  faith  which  illumines  and 
strengthens  them  may  be  preserved.  "  Refute  materialism 
for  us  or  we  die,"  is  what  thousands  are  calling  out  to  their 
theological  masters,  and  with  a  passionate  earnestness,  al- 
most a  vehemence,  never  known  before  ;  sometimes  with  a 
fear,  alas  !  that  their  prayer  may  prove  futile. 

There  is  something  deeply  touching,  perhaps  tragical,  in 
this  expectation  which  the  multitude  have  of  getting  evi- 
dence for  religious  truth  from  their  spiritual  teachers.  Evi- 
dence of  a  sort  they  doubtless  do  get,  which  may  serve  them 
well  enough  if  they  keep  in  sheltered  places  away  from  the 
currents  of  scientific  criticism,  but  which  proves  very  vul- 
nerable when  unreservedly  exposed  to  these  ;  and  perhaps 
the  best  advice  that  could  be  given  to  simple  souls  just  now 
— if  they  are  at  all  susceptible — is  to  remain  in  these  shel- 
tered places  where  there  is  no  danger.     Better  that  their 


KAiN.]  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   TUE  CUURCIL  259 

faith  should  rest  on  an  insecure  basis — not  felt  to  be  so  by 
them — than  that  they  should  have  no  faith  at  all.  Any- 
thing rather  than  that  they  should  sink  permanently  into 
that  night  of  skepticism  whence  have  been  emitted  some 
of  the  dreariest  cries  in  literature.  Better  even  the  shriek 
of  the  "  revivalist "  than  the  "  vanity  of  vanities  "  of  Eccle- 
siastes. 

Now,  we  learn  on  reflection  that  evidence  divides  itself 
into  two  great  classes,  one  of  which  naturally  connects 
itself  with  the  sacerdotal  principle  of  religion,  the  other 
with  the  individualistic.  That  which  is  homogeneous  with 
sacerdotalism  refers  as  a  rule  to  historical  testimony,  calls 
in  the  aid  of  empirical  logic,  and  generally  adopts  the  meth- 
od of  verification  employed  in  science.  Where  the  thing  to 
be  proved  is  conceived  as  wholly  outside  the  mind  and  of 
a  different  nature  from  it,  it  is  hard  to  imagine  any  other 
method  that  would  work  ;  and  the  speculative  position 
taken  up  by  ecclesiasticism  leaves  it  almost  no  choice  as  to 
its  mode  of  proof.  It  has  to  demonstrate  its  doctrines  after 
the  same  manner  as  physical  science  does.  Leaving  out  of 
view  all  philosophical  objections  to  this  mode,  there  is  a 
practical  one  of  very  great  force  which  it  is  worth  our 
while  to  consider.  The  objection  is  the  want  of  success 
which  this  sort  of  evidence  for  religious  truth  has  hitherto 
had  in  combating  scientific  skepticism.  That  it  has  been 
unsuccessful  will  probably  not  be  admitted  by  the  Christian 
controversialist.  But  the  whole  life  both  of  nature  and  man 
will  soon  be  the  recognized  domain  of  physical  science, 
and  then  there  will  be  seen  more  clearly  than  now  the  in- 
ability of  religion  to  defend  itself  by  the  old  empirical 
method.  People  will  have  to  relinquish  it  altogether  or 
discover  a  new  basis  for  it,  and  uphold  it  by  a  more  en- 
lightened method.  Let  Christian  apologists  be  ever  so 
clever  or  so  laborious,  they  will  have  to  change  their  prin- 
ciples ere  they  can  make  much  way  among  the  educated 


260  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH,    [sermon  xvi. 

classes.  I  believe  they  will  have  to  make  trial  of  that  form 
of  evidence  which  connects  itself  with  Individualism,  where- 
of the  principle  is  this  :  that  religious  truth  is  its  own  evi- 
dence, and  the  ultimate  court  of  appeal  the  spiritual  con- 
sciousness. 

This  is  a  position  that  hitherto  has  served  the  material- 
ists much  as  Samson  served  the  Philistines — it  has  made 
sport  for  them.  "  Intuition,"  "  necessary  truth,"  the  "  sub- 
jective method,"  are  things  that  they  have  laughed  at,  and 
battered  with  their  keen  logic  alternately.  Skepticism  has 
sneered,  and  bigotry  has  raged,  and  between  these  two  fires 
the  spiritual  philosophy  has  sometimes  had  a  hard  time  of 
it.  But  the  deep-minded  men  of  the  world  have  been  on 
its  side.  That  this  universe  has  a  supra-sensuous  basis,  and 
is  far  more  than  it  seems  to  be,  is  a  conception  round  which, 
in  all  ages,  genius  and  intellect  have  ranged  themselves  ; 
and  though  they  have  often  erred  in  systematizing  their 
thought,  and  may  err  again,  something  in  them  has  kept 
them  true  to  its  principle.  But  we  are  only  concerned  here 
with  the  spiritualistic  or  transcendental  principles  of  evi- 
dence, and  these  tell  us,  as  I  say,  that  the  criterion  of  truth 
in  religious  matters  lies  in  the  soul  itself.  According  to 
these,  it  is  not  by  a  logical  arrangement  of  facts,  nor  by  the 
cleverness  of  empirical  philosophers,  that  religion  is  to  be 
defended,  but  by  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  to  what  is  true, 
which  is  part  of  the  nature  of  the  regenerate  man.  And 
the  popular  apologist  ought  to  consider  whether,  fighting 
the  battle  of  Christianity  on  an  objective  basis,  he  is  not 
rather  harming  his  cause  than  helping  it.  For,  the  moment 
you  bring  the  reasons  for  your  belief  from  the  depths  of 
inner  consciousness,  and  state  them  logically  on  paper,  a 
thousand  to  one  but  they  seem  feeble  to  yourself.  There 
are  processes  in  human  nature  that  very  few  of  us  have  as 
yet  found  a  phraseology  for  giving  clear  expression  to,  and 
I  am  afraid,  if  the  spiritual  ideas  of  the  Bible  and  of  later 


RAIN.]  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CnURCH.  201 

teachins:  do  not  commend  themselves  as  true  to  tbe  con- 
sciousness  of  those  who  read  them,  there  is  no  method  at 
present  by  which  they  can  be  proved.  At  all  events,  in  the 
present  state  of  popular  culture,  philosophical  proof  of  them 
could  not  be  made  widely  intelligible.  And  perhaps  the 
best  "  Evidences  of  Christianity  "  which  in  the  mean  time 
can  be  had  are  those  inarticulate  intuitions  and  feelings 
which  dwell  deep  down  in  believing  souls  ;  that  intense, 
unaccountable  life  which  has  inspired  men  fi'om  the  begin- 
ninsT,  and  which  the  wisest  of  them  have  ever  looked  on  as 
a  mystery.  That  the  day  shall  never  come  when  this  life 
shall  find  a  voice,  and  be  able  to  give  intelligible  account 
of  itself,  I  by  no  means  suggest.  Meanwhile,  it  is  to  the 
great  majority  of  us  as  good  as  dumb,  and  only  gives  us 
vague  hints  which  one  can  not  communicate  to  another. 
Each  one  must  possess  it  for  himself  to  understand  its  secret. 
And  this  is  why  I  described  this  spectacle  of  the  multitude 
looking  to  theology  for  evidence  to  support  its  faith  as  pa- 
thetic and  even  tragical.  The  evidence  that  theology  is 
able  or  willing  to  provide  is  not  in  this  age  particularly 
valuable,  and  people  should  be  taught,  though  with  caution, 
to  seek  refuge  from  unbelief  in  their  spiritual  instincts. 
These,  at  all  events,  possess  a  much  greater  value  than  ar- 
gumentative divinity.  The  state  of  religious  belief  is  not 
a  state  into  which  an  individual  ever  can  be  reasoned  :  for 
faith  is  an  organic  growth  of  the  soul,  caused,  we  may  say, 
by  the  wonder-working  of  God's  Spirit,  and  about  which 
the  common  logic  knows  nothing. 

Some  weight  might  also  be  given  to  the  circumstance 
that  no  great  religious  teacher  ever  troubled  himself  about 
the  evidences,  in  the  common  sense  of  that  term.  "Where 
are  the  subtile  argumentations  of  the  ancient  prophets,  or 
of  our  Lord,  and  where  their  testimonies  from  history  ? 
It  seems  ridiculous  to  propose  such  a  question.  In  them 
the  individualistic  principle  dwelt  strongly,  and  hence  they 


262  INDIVID  WALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH,    [sermon  xvi. 

appealed  for  proof  to  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  men, 
the  witness  that  was  within  their  hearers.  And  there  is 
nothing  grander  in  their  lives  than  the  way  they  bore  them- 
selves amid  the  race  of  ecclesiastical  reasoners,  themselves 
reasoning  not.  It  was  not  for  them  to  mingle  their  great 
voices  with  the  vulgar  polemics  of  the  time. 

But,  in  setting  forth  a  view  of  the  more  prominent 
aspects  of  Ecclesiasticism  and  Individualism,  something 
should  be  said  about  their  relation  to  the  established  oppo- 
sition of  secular  and  sacred.  Such  opposition  is  a  neces- 
sary expression  of  Ecclesiasticism,  and  in  ancient  times 
when  that  principle  was  everywhere  dominant  it  was  more 
distinctly  seen  than  now.  There  were  secular  and  sacred 
times,  secular  and  sacred  places,  secular  and  sacred  actions, 
secular  and  sacred  doctrines,  and  of  each  of  these  a  consid- 
erable variety.  But  now,  among  most  Protestant  commu- 
nities, the  opposition  exists  actively  in  the  sphere  of  doc- 
trine only ;  while  of  the  large  number  of  sacred  days  there 
is  but  one,  the  Sabbath-day,  remaining.  This  is  owing  to 
the  action  of  the  individualistic  principle,  out  of  which 
Protestantism  took  its  rise,  and  the  tendency  of  which  is  to 
extinguish  the  opposition  altogether.  For  it  leads  neces- 
sarily to  the  Pauline  position  that  there  is  nothing  clean  or 
unclean  of  itself,  but  that  everything  becomes  one  or  the 
other  according  as  we  conceive  it.  It  is  the  way  in  which 
we  think  of  things,  and  the  uses  to  which  we  put  them, 
that  determine  whether  or  not  their  character  is  religious  ; 
and  all  places,  times,  and  ideas  are  holy  to  the  holy-minded 
man.  Such  a  thought  probably  does  not  fill,  as  an  inspir- 
ing faith,  the  mind  of  the  great  Protestant  multitude,  for 
in  the  unthinking  masses  the  echoes  of  a  bygone  creed  sur- 
vive for  ages  ;  but  there  are,  I  fancy,  few  among  them  who 
would  not  acquiesce  in  it  were  it  brought  intelligently  be- 
fore them.  This  acquiescence  would  be  the  outcome  of 
that  Individualism  which  is  working  unconsciously  in  the 


RAIN.]  INDIVIDUALISM  AND  THE  CHURCH.  263 

atmosphere  of  the  age.  Once  it  has  established  itself,  and 
taken  conscious  possession  of  the  age,  it  will,  if  it  be  a  true 
and  not  a  false  Individualism,  extinguish  the  division  be- 
tween the  Church  and  the  world  entirely,  snbstituting  for 
it  that  grand  idea  of  St.  Paul,  "  To  the  pure  all  things  are 
pure.**  With  this  idea  pervading  and  tilling  our  souls,  we 
shall  come  to  perceive  that  the  whole  universe  of  conscious- 
ness is  at  our  service  for  spiritual  culture.  The  earth,  says 
the  Positivist,  exists  for  the  economical  good  of  man  ;  and 
Science  is  the  thrifty  handmaiden  that  finds  where  its  trea- 
sures lie,  and  applies  them  to  his  uses.  This  is  a  sound 
enough  doctrine,  but  as  Christians  we  must  go  beyond  it. 
We  must  say  in  addition  that  the  earth  is  given  us  for  the 
culture  of  our  souls,  and  that  Christian  philosophy  is  the 
instrument  that  explains  to  us  its  complex  symbols.  Chris- 
tian philosophy  must  take  up  the  discoveries  of  science  and 
give  to  them  a  spiritual  interpretation.  Earth's  seas  and 
skies,  its  rocks  and  animals,  the  foliage  and  the  flower,  the 
flux  and  reflux  of  its  life,  its  iron,  relentless  laws,  and  the 
marvelous  history  of  man  are  all  facts  through  which  God 
would  teach  and  discipline  us.  They  are  a  portion  of  his 
revelation,  and  not  one  of  them  but  shadows  forth  his  be- 
ing and  his  thought.  I  believe  there  is  none  of  them  which 
has  not  got  amoral  counterpart  that  may  become  interfused 
with  our  being.  We  may  find  them  not  only  givers  of  the 
bread  that  perishes,  but  in  some  sense  givers  also  of  the 
bread  of  life. 

It  might  be  said  further,  that  if  Individualism  were  to 
extinguish  the  opposition  between  secular  and  sacred,  and 
Paul's  conception  were  to  lay  hold  of  us,  preaching  would 
then  become  practical.  That  is  to  say,  it  would  no  longer 
confine  itself  to  one  set  of  ideas,  and  these  of  a  bygone  age, 
but,  studying  the  world  that  lies  around  it,  would  address 
itself  to  the  jjroblems,  moral  and  intellectual,  that  are  press- 
ing on  the  present.     With  open  and  sympathetic  mind  it 


2G4  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH,    [sekmon  xvi. 

would  turn  toward  the  highways  of  every-day  life,  and 
would  gather  from  its  scenes  and  incidents  the  materials  of 
a  finer  eloquence  than  the  study  of  books  can  give.  The 
love  and  sorrow  that  are  in  poor  men's  dwellings,  the  labor 
that  fills  the  day,  and  the  rest  that  comes  with  evening,  the 
laughter  of  children,  and  the  brow  laden  with  care,  earth's 
sunlight  and  starlight,  the  noisy  stir  of  life,  and  the  mystery 
of  death — these  are  the  things  that,  passed  through  the  fire 
of  Christian  thought,  have  power  to  move  mankind.  And 
the  true  office  of  the  preacher  in  modern  society  is  to  be  a 
revealer  of  the  beauty  and  the  deep  meaning  which  lie  in 
such  common  phenomena,  but  which  the  world,  engrossed 
with  its  business,  has  neither  time  nor  faculty  to  discover. 
He  should  strive  so  to  speak,  that  when  people  hear  him  they 
will  feel  that  their  own  life — which  they  had  deemed  so 
stale  and  unprofitable — is  coming  back  to  them,  in  his  words, 
an  august  and  venerable  thing,  because  ennobled  by  having 
every  fact  of  it  construed  as  in  relation  to  Christianity. 
Then  our  religious  life,  fed  from  fresher  and  more  numer- 
ous springs  than  hitherto,  would  become  robust  and  manly, 
not  a  thing  to  shun  the  noontide  struggle  of  the  world  and 
walk  in  shady  places,  but  that  which  stands  forth  to  hallow 
toil,  and  make  business  pure,  and  all  intercourse  sweet,  and 
give  the  state  an  ennobling  policy. 

There  is  one  most  pernicious  growth  of  the  sacerdotal 
principle  that  should  not  be  left  unnoticed,  I  refer  to 
the  ecclesiastical  self-consciousness  which  exhibits  itself  so 
strongly  in  many  of  our  Protestant  Churches,  and  which  is 
a  real  hindrance  to  their  spiritual  usefulness.  It  fosters  a 
party  spirit  in  them  and  makes  them  very  active  in  the  mat- 
ter of  statistics.  It  gives  them  a  sharp  eye  for  denomination- 
al differences.  It  gives  them  also  a  wonderful  knowledge  of 
the  scriptural  theory  of  Church  government,  and  such  mat- 
ters. But,  of  the  soul's  spiritual  quickening  and  evolution 
out  of   ignorance   and  earthliness  into  divine  wisdom,   it 


BAIN. J  INDIVIDUALISM  AND  THE  CHURCH.  2G5 

teaches  them  little.  Mechanism  is  its  God,  and  consequent- 
ly it  has  little  faith.  It  believes  only  in  what  the  outward 
eye  can  see,  and  the  logic  of  the  understanding  can  trace. 
The  evidence  of  things  not  seen — of  the  powers  of  spiritual 
thought,  whose  working  is  silent — has  no  place  in  its  com- 
position. 

I  would  say,  in  closing,  that  the  struggle  between  the 
two  principles  of  Ecclesiasticism  and  Individualism  is  des- 
tined to  be  one  of  the  great  struggles  of  the  future.  It  has 
been  going  on  since  the  Protestant  Reformation  began,  and 
in  every  later  age  on  a  wider  scale,  pushing  itself  into  new 
departments  of  thought  and  life  ;  and  it  can  not  cease  until 
one  of  the  combatants  is  driven  from  the  field,  and  unity 
has  been  brought  back  to  the  spiritual  sphere  of  man's  life. 
I  think  the  heretical  outbreakings  of  our  time  must  possess 
an  importance  even  to  thinking  minds  when  seen  to  connect 
themselves  with  this  struggle. 

Lastly,  let  it  be  understood  that  the  Individualism  which 
I  advocate  is  not  a  lawless  or  profane  Individualism,  but 
one  which  the  mind  only  can  develop  when  quickened  by 
God's  Spirit.  And  let  no  one  imagine  that  I  ignore  the 
value  of  ecclesiastical  organizations,  or  would  have  those 
existing  destroyed.  The  inward  life  necessarily  embodies 
itself  in  visible  institutions,  and  though  spiritual  thought 
may  have  ebbed  low  in  many  of  our  churches  it  has  not 
wholly  left  any  of  them,  and  they  are  performing  a  useful 
work.  Their  doctrines  are  the  bread  of  life  to  thousands, 
and  they  form  a  real  holy  of  holies,  in  which  devout  souls 
all  over  Christendom  worship.  I  would  only  warn  you 
against  entering  into  a  false  relation  to  them,  calling  them 
your  master  and  lord,  and  forgetting  they  are  your  servant ; 
raising  them  to  the  position  of  an  end,  and  forgetting  they 
are  but  a  means.  And  I  would  say,  especially,  that  not  a 
single  doctrine  of  which  they  are  the  official  guardians — 
the  most  essential  or  the  most  accidental  doctrine,  the  ear- 
12 


266  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   THE  CHURCH,    [seejion  xvi, 

liest  framed  or  the  latest  added — can  be  of  moral  value  to 
anybody  when  taken  into  the  mind  at  the  bidding  of  au- 
thority. 

Let  the  simple-minded  Christian,  who  hears  of  progress 
and  dreads  the  havoc  it  may  work  upon  his  creed,  gather 
comfort  from  the  thought  that  the  spirit  of  true  religion  is 
eternal.  The  visible  body  of  it  may  wax  old  like  a  gar- 
ment, and  as  a  vesture  God — or  man  under  God — may 
change  it,  and  it  shall  be  changed.  But  this  shall  only  be 
that  Religion  may  weave  for  itself  a  simpler  and  more 
fitting  covering  ;  and,  when  the  churches  of  the  present 
break  up  and  go  their  way,  they  will  make  room  for  some- 
thing that  is  higher. 


BAIN.]  TUB  PIIAUISEE  ASD   THE  PUBLICAN.  2G7 


XVII. 
THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN. 

BY    THE    TwEV.    THOMAS    RAIN,    M.  A.,    HUTTON. 

"  Two  men  went  np  into  the  temple  to  pray ;  tLe  one  a  Pharisee, 
and  the  other  a  puhlican.  The  Pharisee  stood  and  prayed  thus  with 
himself:  God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are,  extor- 
tioners, unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as  this  publican.  I  fast  twice  in 
the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all  that  I  possess.  And  the  publican, 
standing  afar  off,  would  not  lift  up  so  much  as  his  eyes  unto  heaven, 
but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner. 
I  tell  you,  this  man  went  down  to  his  house  justified  rather  than  the 
other:  for  every  one  that  exalteth  himself  shall  be  abased;  and  he 
that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted." — Luke  xviii,  10-14. 

However  much  the  numerous  sects  of  Christendom  are 
divided  as  to  their  ideas  of  Christ's  nature,  they  are  all 
agreed  in  looking  on  him  as  a  great  religious  teacher.  That 
He  made  it  his  mission  to  put  mankind  right  on  the  great- 
est subject  that  can  occupy  their  thoughts  is  what  no  school 
of  Christians  will  deny.  It  is  when  we  come  to  consider 
the  way  He  took  of  doing  this  that  our  sectarian  differ- 
ences appear  ;  and  possibly  these  differences  are  more  owing 
to  our  mode  of  studying  his  life  than  to  inherent  difficul- 
ties in  the  life  itself.  Were  we  to  become  more  historical 
in  our  method,  and  less  theological,  the  religious  unity  of 
Christendom  might  attain  to  other  than  it  is  at  jiresent — a 
pious  wish. 

But,  leaving  this  question  aside,  I  Avant  you  to  start  with 


268  TEE  PRAEISEE  AND   TEE  PUBLICAN,    [sermon  xvii. 

me  from  the  idea  that  is  common  to  us  all,  Christ  a  religious 
teacher,  and  to  observe  the  remarkable  attitude — the  star- 
tling and  original  attitude — which,  as  such,  He  took  up.    He 

^  set  himself  in  deadly  antagonism  to  the  official  religion  of 
the  age  in  which  He  lived.  From  a  religious  point  of  view, 
and  speaking  broadly,  the  community  in  Palestine  was 
at  that  time  divisible  into  two  well-marked  sections  :  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees — the  church-goers  ;  the  publicans  and 
sinners — the  lapsed  masses.  It  was  pretty  much  then  as 
now  :  the  respectable  classes  were  suiTounded  by  a  seething 
mass  of  people  whose  lawless  lives,  or  whose  alien  blood  or 
faith,  had  outlawed  them  from  society.  There  was  the 
traditional  party,  and  the  party  in  rebellion  against  tradi- 
tion ;  the  former  in  a  state  of  death-like  rigidity,  the  latter 
in  a  state  of  moral  chaos — for  their  rebellion  had  been  dic- 
tated less  by  princijDle  than  by  wild  and  lawless  appetite. 

}  The  Saviour  had  to  choose  which  of  these  great  sections, 
the  conventional  or  the  lawless,  He  would  most  sympathize 
with,  and  the  instincts  of  his  nature  led  him  toward  the 
latter.  It  is  not  among  the  robed  gentlemen  about  the  tem- 
ple that  He  goes  to  seek  his  coadjutors,  and  it  is  not  in  his 
talks  with  Pharisees  that  He  becomes  sweet  and  tender  ;  but, 
when  He  would  surround  himself  with  friends,  He  calls  to 
him  laboring  men,  and,  when  his  nature  warms  and  softens, 
it  is  among  simple-minded  villagers.  Simon  Peter  and 
Andrew  the  fishermen,  not  Caiaphas  the  High  Priest,  are 
chosen  to  be  his  helpers.  It  is  for  these  poor  ones  that  He 
feels  affinity,  and  not  for  the  venerable  dignitary.  The 
stains  of  labor  would  be  upon  their  rough  garments,  and 
labor's  narrow  thoughts  would  be  in  their  souls  ;  they  would 
be  homely-mannered  people  as  well  as  obtuse-minded  and 
hard-handed.  For  manual  toil  is  a  poor  inspirer  of  intel- 
lectual life,  and  the  craft  of  fishing  reacts  in  this  respect  no 
better  than  its  neighbors.  Our  fishing  villages  at  home  are 
not  distinguished  among  laboring  communities  for  mental 


RAm.J  TEE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN.  3(39 

brightness.  Yet  Peter,  with  his  mind  in  a  state  of  nature, 
and  clothed  in  his  rusty  garment,  was  deemed  a  preferable 
companion  to  the  pompously-robed  Priest.  So  thought  the 
Lord. 

;  Therefore,  when  the  Saviour  would  draw  a  religious 
hero,  it  is  the  ecclesiastically  outcast  class  from  which  He 
takes  him.  He  has  given  us  a  model  of  humble  piety  in 
the  person  of  a  Publican,  and  a  model  of  true  neighborli- 
ness  in  that  of  a  Samaritan,  while  he  who  got  from  him  the 
credit  of  greatest  faith  was  a  Roman  soldier.  More  than 
this,  the  infamous  person  whom,  with  the  instinct  of  an 
artist.  He  introduces  to  bring  into  relief  his  hero's  virtues, 
is  taken  from  the  ecclesiastics  ;  so  that  beside  the  good  Sa- 
maritan there  stands  the  pitiless  priest,  and  the  canting 
Pharisee  stands  over  against  the  Publican.  What  means 
the  like  of  this  but  a  pointed  rebuke  of  priestcraft,  and  a 
clear  announcement  that  ingenuous  paganism  is  better  ?  It 
is  honor  sho^wTi  to  whom  the  world  had  deemed  dishonor- 
able, and  reproach  poured  on  those  it  had  exalted ;  and 
once  we  have  observed  it  we  cease  to  wonder  at  the  twenty- 
third  chapter  of  Matthew,  or  at  the  tragedy  on  Calvary. 

/■  It  comes  home  to  us  that  the  Lord  had  chosen  traditionalism 
to  be  his  special  enemy  ;  of  all  the  evils  in  the  world  He 
would  put  down  it  first,  and  there  could  be  no  bandying  of 
soft  words  between  them.  , 

'  Now,  the  attitude  assumed  by  Jesus  toward  the  ecclesi- 
astics on  the  one  hand,  and  the  ecclesiastically  outcast  on 
the  other,  colors  his  outward  career  more  deeply  than  any 
other  fact  of  it.  It  never  v/holly  disappears,  and  is  con- 
stantly coming  into  prominence.  It  determines  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  most  important  scenes  and  incidents  ;  so  that  to 
study  Christ  apart  from  it  would  be  like  studying  Luther 
apart  from  Indulgences,  or  writing  a  life  of  Wilberforce 

;,  with  the  Slavery  Question  left  out.  Our  Lord's  hatred  of 
Pharisaism  is  about  the  notablest  fact  in  his  history,  and  we 


270  T^^  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN,    [sermon  xvii. 

may  assure  ourselves  that  the  feeling  was  no  accident,  but 
a  necessary  outcome  of  the  nature  He  possessed.  That 
which  exhibits  itself  again  and  again  in  a  man's  life  is  not 
the  creature  of  circumstances,  but  corresponds  to  some  truth 
of  his  moral  being.  The  explanation  of  it  has  to  be  sought 
for  within,  and,  intelligently  regarded,  it  becomes  a  valu- 
able clew  to  character.  Do  you  want  to  find  out  how  this 
or  that  individual  is  inwardly  constituted — note  carefully 
the  facts  that  come  up  oftenest  in  his  life,  and  the  sayings 
that  are  oftenest  on  his  tongue.  The  principle  of  these 
deeds  and  sayings  is  at  one  with  the  individual's  deepest 
nature.  Hence,  if  we  would  gain  a  right  understanding  of 
Christianity,  we  should  fix  our  minds  on  the  events  that  are 
most  prominent  in  its  Founder's  history,  for  through  per- 
cej^tion  of  the  moral  character  of  these  our  first  real  insight 
into  Christian  truth  is  gained.  On  the  threshold  of  our  re- 
ligious studies  there  is  nothing  we  should  give  more  heed 
to  than  that  antagonism  between  our  Lord  and  the  priest- 
hood of  which  the  evangelists  say  so  much.  We  should 
lend  our  minds  thoroughly  to  it,  and  look  searchingly  at  it 
in  all  its  aspects,  should  question  and  cross-question  it,  pray 
over  it,  Jacob-like  wrestle  with  it,  and  refuse  to  let  it  go  till 
we  win  from  it  its  secret.  And  it  will  be  well  if  we  see  so 
clearly  into  the  great  principles  underlying  it,  that  we  shall 
be  able  to  transfer  these  to  our  own  time,  and  apply  them 
as  a  test  to  the  religious  phenomena  around  us.  How 
would  the  present  ecclesiastical  life  of  Scotland,  nay,  of 
Christendom  at  large,  look  in  our  eyes  if  we  had  in  our 
hearts  the  same  hatred  of  the  merely  outward,  the  formal 
and  traditional,  as  dwelt  in  Jesus  ?  There  are  few  questions 
we  can  ask  ourselves  that  are  so  worthy  of  consideration. 

Then,  having  noticed  our  Lord's  attitude  relative  to 
the  Pharisees,  it  would  be  a  great  gain  if  we  could  find 
out  what  instinct  prompted  him  to  assume  it.  How  came 
it  that  He  turned  angrily  away  from  the  law-revering,  or- 


EAiN.]  THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN.  271 

dinance-keeping  people,  and  joined  himself  to  the  God-for- 
getting multitude — called  God-forgetting  by  the  churches  ? 
I  think  it  was  owing  to  an  instinct  which  we  find  animat- 
ing all  who  in  this  world  have  shown  themselves  truly- 
great  ;  and  as  an  ingredient  in  Christ's  character  we  must 
not  value  it  less,  that>  it  is  found  among  ordinary  men.     I 
allude  to  the  attractiveness,  the  irresistible  charm  which 
things  vital  and  real  possess  for  deep  souls,  and  the  corre- 
sponding avei'sion  they  feel  toward   the   artificial.      Give 
us  life,  breathing  reality,  is  their  sincere  and  constant  cry. 
That  a  thing  be  in  the  order  of  nature  and  throbbing  with 
nature's  wondrous  vitality  is  to  them  the  first  condition  of 
its  loveliness.     No  matter  that  it  look  outwardly  insignifi- 
cant, or  lie  low  in  the  scale  of  being — if  it  be  joined  in  liv- 
ing relationship  to  the  mighty  whole,  it  touches  the  chords 
of  their  sympathy  and  they  are  interested.     But  the  arbi- 
trary and  conventional  is  a  hideous  specter  they  can  not 
away  with  ;  and  the  impulsive  bad  man  is  less  intolerable 
than  the  ceremonially  just  one.     They  can  look  with  more 
calmness  on  the  errors  of  genius  than  on  the  excellences  of 
the  soulless  imitator.     Again  and  again  this  sort  of  men 
has  appeared  in  worn-out  degenerate  ages,  and  then  it  has 
been  their  privilege  to  lead  the  world  back  to  truthfulness 
of  life.     We  find  the  pages  of  history  full  of  them,  and 
they  are  particularly  prominent  at  the  great  turning-points 
of  progress.     When  there  was  nothing  but  devotion  to  the 
outward,  and  all  art  and  literature,  as  well  as  religious  wor- 
ship, were  a  mere  imitation  of  what  had  once  been,  it  has 
been  the  glory  of  these  men  to  appeal  to  the  inward  voices. 
What  their  souls  told  them  they  would  believe  and  do. 
The  thoughts  and  feelings  that  had  grown  up  in  the  depth 
of  their  being  were  dearer  to  them  than  traditions,  and  they 
would  put  these  into  their  poems  and  pictures,  and  into  their 
sacrifices  to  God.     For  guiding  rule  they  trusted  absolutely 
to  the  law  within,  and  did  their  work  with  a  joyous  strength. 


272  y^^  PHABISEE  AED   THE  PUBLICAN,    [sermon  xvii. 

heedless  of  the  outcry  raised  against  them  that  "  use  and 
wont"  was  outraged.  Through  their  lives  and  teaching, 
society  has  again  and  again  been  brought  back  to  sincerity 
of  view,  and  to  a  perception  of  the  unending  worth  that 
lies  in  reality.  Among  all  peoples  where  the  human  mind 
has  left  a  lasting  trace  of  itself,  these  Luther-like  souls  are 
to  be  found,  and  all  are  alike  in  their  scorn  of  the  conven- 
tional, and  their  craving  for  God  and  nature's  truth.  That 
an  individual  be  wholly  himself,  speaking  and  acting  out 
the  life  that  is  within  him,  whether  it  be  of  base  passion  or 
of  spiritual  reason,  is  what  they  constantly  demand.  Bet- 
ter a  loving,  erring  Magdalen,  than  ninety-and-nine  fault- 
less formalists.  Such  is  their  animating  principle,  and  fur- 
ther analysis  of  them  can  not  be  offered  here.  There  are 
depths  in  their  natures  to  which  analysis  can  not  reach. 
Instead  of  explaining  them,  it  will  be  wise  for  us  to  real- 
ize how  thoroughly  their  principle  bears  rule  over  their 
minds,  the  scorn  it  wakens  in  them  for  every  kind  of  wax- 
work, and  the  leaping  up  of  heart  it  causes  toward  all 
ebullient  life.  So  realizing,  we  shall  get  to  understand 
them  in  the  only  real  way  in  which  it  is  given  to  one  man 
to  understand  another,  by  participation  in  a  common  feel- 
ing through  the  law  of  sympathy.  Then  from  their  words 
and  ways  a  glory  will  flash  out  upon  us  which  we  never 
saw  before  ;  and  such  a  key  to  our  Lord's  history  will  be 
put  into  our  hands  as  no  theology,  new  or  old,  critical  or 
apologetic,  could  supply.  Why  He  hated  priests  and  for- 
malists, and  why  the  human  nature  that  was  cast  out  and 
tossed  about,  and  that  was  stained  with  foul  passion,  and 
knew  want  and  loneliness,  was  dear  to  him,  as  He  was  dear 
to  it — shall  all  be  made  plain.  His  love  for  the  compas- 
sionate Samaritan  and  the  broken-hearted  harlot's  love  for 
him  shall  have  their  mystery  solved. 

The  parable  chosen  for  treatment  affords  a  striking  illus- 
tration of  the  principle  I  have  described,  and  there  can  be 


EAiN.]  THE  PHAEISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN.  273 

no  doubt  that  the  principle  was,  consciously  or  unconscious- 
ly, in  the  mind  of  Christ  at  the  time  He  spoke  it.  But  it 
was  not  purposely  to  illustrate  this  principle  that  the  parable 
was  framed  ;  but  rather,  I  think,  to  expose  a  special  error 
into  which  Pharisaism  is  ever  prone  to  fall.  That  concep- 
tion of  religious  duty  which  represents  it  as  something  out- 
ward and  finite  is  here  held  up  to  scorn. 

Two  men  went  up  into  the  temple  to  pray,  the  one  a 
Pharisee  and  the  other  a  Publican.  It  was  to  the  same 
place  they  went  to  worship,  but  we  can  hardly  imagine  them 
urged  thither  by  the  same  motive  ;  for  the  one  is  pictured 
to  us  as  professionally  a  pious  man,  the  other  as  outwardly 
a  sinner.  So  that  in  the  one  case  the  impelling  agent  would 
be  a  deliberately  framed  rule  or  custom,  some  shred  of  sa- 
cerdotalism, while  probably  in  the  other  it  would  be  a  de- 
votional thought  that  had  risen  in  the  soul.  The  Publican 
did  not  presumably  recognize  those  outward  laws  which 
ecclesiasticism  had  framed  to  regulate  the  religious  life,  and 
he  had  no  particular  hour  or  number  of  times  a  day  for 
paying  vows,  but,  when  the  prayerful  mood  came,  then  he 
prayed.  In  this  respect  he  stood  further  from  the  church 
than  the  Pharisee  did,  but  nearer  to  nature,  and  nearer 
probably  to  God.  For  the  devout  exercise  of  the  spirit  is  a 
too  delicate  operation  to  be  successfully  regulated  by  laws 
coming  from  without ;  and  in  giving  utterance  to  its  piety 
we  will  do  well  to  let  the  soul  be  a  law  unto  itself,  employ- 
ing devout  words  and  attitudes  only  when  there  is  the  de- 
vout feeling.  Sometimes,  of  course,  nay,  many  a  time,  the 
outward  form  of  worship,  when  decorously  observed,  may 
wake  to  life  the  inner  spirit,  and  what  began  a  mere  sound- 
ing brass  and  tinkling  cymbal  may  end  a  great  reality.  But 
the  deep  soul  that  feels  sure  of  itself,  in  which  devout  im- 
pulses spring  up  naturally,  like  flowers  in  a  sunny  place,  con- 
temns the  binding  of  its  piety  to  priestly  times  and  seasons. 
It  is  its  own  lawgiver,  and  makes  times  and  seasons  for  itself. 


374  THE  PIIAFJSEE  AND   THE  PUBLiCAN.    [sermon  xvu. 

We  usually  regard  this  parable  as  the  authoritative  com- 
mendation of  humility  and  warning  against  self -righteous- 
ness, and  jDass  on  satisfied  with  our  interpretation.  But  this 
superficial  exegesis  does  not  tell  us  what  it  is  needful  we 
should  know  :  where  lies  the  root  of  the  two  feelings  here 
set  in  opposition.  Whence  cometh  self -righteousness  ?  and 
whence  cometh  humility  ?  are  most  important  questions  in 
the  psychology  of  religion,  and  the  right  answer  to  them 
forms  a  center  of  light  by  which  cognate  problems  can  be 
better  viewed.  Let  us  analyze,  then,  the  spiritual  condition 
of  the  two  men  here  depicted  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  and 
find  out  if  possible  the  essential  difference  between  them. 
What  made  the  one  feel  satisfied  with  himself,  and  what 
bowed  the  other  to  the  earth  with  shame  and  self-reproach  ? 
To  say  the  reason  lies  in  this — that  they  were  both  sinners 
by  nature,  inheritors  of  Adam's  guilt,  but  while  the  one  re- 
membered this  circumstance  and  was  sorry  for  it,  the  other 
quite  forgot  it  and  felt  no  sorrow — is  to  adopt  an  explana- 
tion which  is  no  explanation.  For  the  vital  truth  of  the 
parable  is  not  hereby  brought  to  view.  And  we  must  get 
off  this  ground  altogether  if  we  would  learn  the  great  lesson 
which  Christ  would  teach  us  by  his  simple  story.  A  con- 
sciousness of  original  guilt  in  the  one  man,  and  the  absence 
of  this  consciousness  in  the  other,  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  marked  cotitrast  that  is  in  their  prayers.  Rather  this 
contrast  was  occasioned  by  the  different  standards  of  duty 
by  which  they  had  been  measuring  themselves,  and  toward 
which  in  their  condnct  they  had  been  striving.  That  em- 
ployed by  the  Pharisee  had  been  provided  by  his  church, 
was  an  ecclesiastical  measuring-rod,  so  to  speak,  and  had 
been  in  use  for  centuries.  The  ideal  it  raised  before  his 
mind  was  this  :  to  give  away  a  tenth  of  his  income,  to  keep 
appointed  fasts,  to  pray  so  many  times  a  week,  and  do  other 
like  formalities.  I  would  observe  regarding  these  ceremo- 
nies that  they  awaken  no  thought  of  the  infinite,  and  there 


RAIN.]  THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN.  275 

is  nothing  about  tliem  that  a  person  of  methodical  temper 
could  not  easily  accomplish.    They  are  very  clearly  defined, 
and  have  a  distinct  beginning— an  end;  so  that  he  who 
trusted  to  their  covering  the  whole  field  of  duty  would  not 
have  his  soul  vexed  by  the  sense  of  aught  unattained.    Where 
there  is  a  compact  little  theory  of  right  conduct,  you  do 
not  meet  with  vague  aspiration.     Righteousness  is  some- 
thing fixed  and  external,  and  needs  only  for  its  practice  such 
orderly  habits  as  we  see  exemplified  by  successful  men  of 
business.     And  if  this  Pharisee,  as  is  likely,  was  an  unim- 
passioned  man,  and  possessed  a  talent  for  living  by  rule, 
what  should  hinder  him  from  keeping  the  ordinances  per- 
fectly ?     For  they  could  all  be  observed  without  any  spirit- 
ual movement  taking  place  within  him.     And  once  they 
were  observed,  when  the  several  attitudes  had  been  gone 
through,  there  was  nothing  left  him  but  to  thank  God  that 
he  was  not  as  other  men.    He  had  no  intuition  of  any  other 
obligation  than  those  included  in  his  church's  directory,  so 
that  no  feeling  of   misgiving,  no  sense  of   unattainment, 
would  raise  bitterness  in  his  heart.     The  field  of  duty  was 
measurable,  finite,  well  fenced  in,  and  it  lay  clear  befoi-e 
him,  not  a  hollow  or  corner  in  it  but  he  could  see  ;  he  culti- 
vated the  whole  of  it  every  day,  and  bore  thankfulness  in 
his  heart  for  his  ceremonial  virtue. 

I  must  say  this  was  a  fearful  idea  to  have  had  of  duty, 
the  most  real  and  unfathomable  thing  that  mankind  can  be 
conscious  of,  and  which  by  the  spiritually-minded  has  been 
constantly  set  forth  as  an  object  for  deepest  reverence.  And 
it  was  held  not  by  this  or  that  private  individual,  but  by  a 
powerful  institution  which  controlled  the  religion  of  a  whole 
people.  Such  religious  instruction  as  is  shadowed  forth  by 
the  Pharisee's  prayer  was  that  given  to  orthodox  Jews  in 
the  age  of  the  Saviour  ;  and,  when  we  reflect  on  the  nature 
of  it,  we  cease  to  Avonder  at  the  end  its  professors  have  come 
to.     We  cease  to  wonder  that  Judaism  should  have  failed 


276  THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN,    [seemon  xvii. 

as  a  principle  of  national  existence,  and  that  its  bigoted  ad- 
herents to-day  are  wanderers  without  a  country.  For  here 
is  that  sublime  verity  called  duty,  which  in  its  integrity 
eludes  our  subtilest  analysis,  whose  form  is  ever  changing, 
and  which  in  its  essence  is  infinite  as  God  himself,  briskly 
identified  with  half  a  dozen  ceremonies,  and  lying  on  men's 
minds  as  lightly  as  the  taking  of  their  meals.  Truly  tra- 
ditionalism brings  human  nature  to  strange  passes  of  imbe- 
cility, and  colors  history  with  a  grim,  unconscious  humor. 
No  wonder  that  Christ  could  not  away  with  Pharisaism. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  standard  used  by  the  Publican 
'  for  measuring  his  conduct  was  no  object  that  we  can  define. 
Duty  to  him,  so  far  as  it  had  been  consciously  conceived  at 
all,  meant  infinite  attainment,  and,  laid  in  the  balance  against 
it,  his  holiest  actions  seemed  less  than  nothing.  What  could 
he  do  but  feel  sad  over  his  little  life  when  comparing  it  with 
the  high  thought  of  what  life  should  be  that  dwelt  within 
him  ?  For  sadness  steals  into  all  our  hearts  when  the  infinite 
in  any  of  its  forms  rises  visibly  before  us,  and  we  measure 
against  it  our  finite  strivings  ;  and  I  fancy  this  remorseful 
Publican  was  in  the  same  moral  state  as  Kant  was  in,  when 
he  contemjilated  the  starry  heavens  and  the  sense  of  right 
and  wrong  in  man  ;  as  the  writer  of  the  eighth  Psalm  well 
knew — of  all  the  Psalms  ;  as  is  expressed  in  the  third  chap- 
ter of  Philippians,  and  as  comes  out  in  the  spiritual  concep- 
tions of  all  deep-hearted  men.  To  them  duty  is  not  this  or 
that  finite  obligation  which  can  be  put  into  a  handy  formula 
and  mechanically  performed,  like  the  digging  of  a  garden 
or  the  making  of  a  spade,  but  is  an  immeasurable,  indefin- 
able ideal  of  good  that  overshadows  and  enchants  them. 
Moreover,  it  is  a  changeable  ideal,  and  in  every  new  age  the 
intellect  under  the  inspiration  of  conscience  has  to  create  it 
afresh.  To  the  earnest-minded  savage  it  is  one  thing,  and 
to  the  half -civilized  man  it  is  another.  It  should  not  be  the 
same  thing  to  us  as  it  was  to  oui*  forefathers,  and  to  those 


RAIN.]  THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN.  277 

who  come  after  us  it  should  be  different  still  ;  for  it  takes 
this  and  the  other  form  according  to  the  historical  position, 
and  to  the  culture,  of  the  individual  who  conceived  it.  And 
this  ceaseless  transformation  of  its  outward  vesture  hinders 
it  from  ever  becoming  the  actual,  and  is  the  secret  of  its 
beauty  and  its  power.  Once  it  ceases  to  change,  and  men 
get  familiar  with  it,  and  can  see,  as  the  Pharisee  did,  every 
nook  and  corner  of  its  nature,  it  is  a  sign  that  moral  prog- 
ress has  stopped.  The  spirit  has  given  place  to  the  letter, 
and  there  is  an  age  of  formalism.  Instead  of  poets  and 
thinkers,  we  have  commentators  and  learned  men.  But, 
when  spiritual  life  is  in  the  soul,  that  infinite  ideal  we  call 
duty  must  necessarily  change  ;  for  spiritual  life  means  prog- 
ress, and  when  one  form  of  the  ideal  has  been  realized  a 
more  splendid  form  must  instantly  appear.  It  means  death 
to  man  in  his  heavenward  career  if  he  overtake  the  vision 
he  is  pursuing.  That  must  ever  fly  before  him  as  the  mi- 
rage before  the  traveler  in  the  desert.  As  the  quality  of  his 
virtue  grows  more  refined  it  must  grow  more  splendid  in  its 
beauty,  and,  as  the  sunlight  puts  out  the  stars,  must  put  out 
by  its. pure  shining  the  glory  of  his  deeds.  For  fate  has 
decreed  that  to  the  Christian-minded  the  ideal  shall  never 
become  real ;  and  it  is  the  kindly  decree  of  a  stern  mother 
— stern,  hut  a  mother.  There  is  to  be  constant  following 
after,  but  never  perfect  attainment.  And  the  reward  prom- 
ised is  one  with  which  all  noble  souls  shall  be  well  pleased 
— the  inward  strength  and  loveliness  that  are  bred  of  such 
following.  This  is  how  we  must  account  for  these  sad  con- 
fessions of  unrest  that  so  often  have  come  out  of  earnest 
hearts,  and  for  the  deep  religious  idea,  old  as  man  himself, 
that  likens  life  to  a  pilgrimage.  A  pilgrimage  it  truly  is, 
and  in  a  moral  sense  as  well  as  a  material ;  for  we  change 
and  progress  not  only  from  one  bodily  state  to  another — 
from  weakness  to  vigor,  and  then  back  to  weakness  again 
— but  if  I  am  a  living  soul  as  well  as  healthy  body  I  move 


278  THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN,    [sermon  xvu. 

forward  through  endless  stages  of  spiritual  beiiag.  There 
is  a  time  when  I  believe  and  hope  as  a  child,  and  a  time 
again  when  I  put  away — when  God  calls  me  to  put  away — 
all  childish  things.  Step  after  step  we  have  to  rise  "  on 
stepping-stones  of  our  dead  selves  to  higher  things  "  ;  and 
must  valiantly  cooperate  with  the  stern,  beautiful  law  which 
raises  the  world,  and  by  which  the  faith  of  to-day  becomes 
the  superstition  of  to-morrow.  There  is  a  sense  in  which 
we  must  die  daily  to  the  past  that  we  may  inherit  fully  the 
riches  of  the  present  ;  for  he  only  lives  deeply  and  truly 
who  lives  in  the  spirit  of  his  time,  and  moves  forward  as  it 
moves.  But  hard  is  it  to  do  this  ;  hard  is  it  to  have  every 
organ  of  the  soul  awake  and  in  a  state  of  struggle,  hard  is 
it  to  be  ever  leaving  behind  the  old,  some  part  of  ourselves 
that  has  grown  effete,  and  to  be  constantly  assimilating 
fresh  elements  of  being. 

They  are  few  who  are  equal  to  these  things,  and  there- 
fore, in  the  spiritual  sense  of  the  term,  there  are  few  that  be 
saved.  "Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate,  for  wide  is 
the  gate  and  broad  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction, 
and  many  there  be  which  go  in  thereat :  because  strait  is 
the  gate,  and  narrow  is  the  way,  which  leadeth  unto  life, 
and  few  there  be  that  find  it."  Sad  and  true  are  these 
words,  and  it  must  have  raised  sadness  in  the  soul  of  Christ 
to  have  had  to  speak  them. 

Now,  it  is  among  the  progressive  sort  of  people — the 
ever-following,  never-attaining  sort  —  that  we  must  class 
this  Publican  of  the  parable.  For  he  stands  before  us  as 
one  in  whose  soul  the  principle  of  spiritual  growth  is  visibly 
at  work,  and  who,  wanting  in  a  precise  theory  of  duty,  has 
yet  a  pervading  sense  of  its  infinitude.  And  it  is  this  sense 
that  fills  him  with  feelings  of  remorse  when,  turning  his 
mind  inward,  he  looks  upon  himself  and  asks  what  he  is 
and  what  he  has  accomplished.  It  is  a  living  sense  of  the 
infinite  nature  of  religious  duty,  and  of  finite  man's  inability 


RAiN.J  THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN.  279 

ever  to  realize  it,  that  is  the  inspirer  of  his  prayer.  Tech- 
nically he  knew  less  about  that  duty  than  the  Pharisee  did, 
had  no  smart  theory  of  its  nature,  and  could  not  reduce  it 
to  a  precise  number  of  ceremonies,  but  yet  had  God  put  an 
instinct  into  his  soul  Avhich  told  him  of  its  awful  nature. 
That  instinct  did  far  more  for  him  than  theological  knowl- 
edge could  do  for  his  self-righteous  neighbor,  for  it  kept 
his  piety  fresh  and  living,  and  made  it  in  the  sight  of 
God  a  sweet-smelling  savor.  He  had  no  logically  arranged 
scheme  of  religious  doctrine,  but  the  great  principles  of 
religious  life  were  within  him,  and  worked  within  him  no 
less  effectually  that  he  could  not  have  explained  them.  It 
is  not  necessary  that  we  understand  the  powers  of  the  Spii'it 
to  make  them  potent,  for  the  deepest  processes  of  nature 
and  human  life  are  long  in  action  ere  they  appear  in  reflec- 
tive consciousness.  Holy  men  lived  ages  before  there  were 
theologians,  and  there  was  the  lovely  garniture  of  earth 
when  there  was  no  botany  or  physics. 

Let  us  see  the  explanation  of  the  parable  to  which  we 
have  attained.  It  is  simply  this  :  That  two  opposite  views 
of  life  and  duty  are  put  forward  by  it,  and  that  one  of  them 
is  a  principle  of  incessant  aspiration,  what  we  call  life  eter- 
nal, while  the  other  is  a  stationary  principle,  producing  self- 
satisfaction  and  moral  death.  According  to  the  one  view, 
the  things  we  ought  to  believe  and  the  things  we  ought  to 
do  can  be  brought  to  the  clearest  consciousness  and  em- 
bodied in  unchanging  formularies.  So  literally  finite  are 
they  that  human  logic  can  circumscribe  them  by  a  precise 
definition,  and  human  practical  endeavor  fulfill  their  ut- 
most demands.  We  can  see  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  them,  know  their  exact  number,  separate  them  from 
things  secular,  and  observe  who  performs  them  and 
who  performs  them  not.  They  are  such  things  as  these  : 
The  adhering  to  a  dogma,  the  keeping  of  a  Sabbath, 
the  paying  of  a  tithe,  the  mumbling  over  the  altar  of  a 


280  THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN,    [seemon  xvii. 

set  style  of  ritual — this  is  the  Pharisaic  conception  of  re- 
ligion. 

A  very  different  one  is  suggested  by  reflection  on  the 
Publican  and  his  prayer.  It  is  a  conception  which  presents 
truth  and  goodness  as  an  ideal  that  is  the  same  in  no  two 
stages  of  our  spiritual  development  or  growth  in  grace.  As 
we  change  and  ascend  it  changes  and  ascends  too,  and  we 
can  as  little  overtake  it  as  the  steed  racing  westward  at 
morning  can  overtake  his  shadow.  But  it  charms  us  after 
it  with  a  power  that  is  irresistible.  We  can  not  choose  but 
follow  on  its  radiant  track.  The  sight  of  its  splendor  sick- 
ens us  with  ourselves  and  prompts  us  to  the  bitter  cry, 
"  Lord,  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,"  yet  we  can  not  help 
gazing  after  it  with  longing  heart.  Though  to  behold  its 
shadowy  form  take  away  from  us  all  hope  of  that  mental 
settling  down  which  is  so  pleasant — which  is  the  heaven 
of  many  churches  and  whose  opposite  is  their  hell  —  and 
turn  us  into  the  Paul-like  state  of  not  having  already  at- 
tained, we  will  not  cease  from  our  dream  of  duty.  For 
such  a  dream  is  native  to  the  Christian  soul.  It  is  what  the 
living  soul  always  sees  when,  looking  upward,  it  asks  that 
ancient  question,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  "  It  sees 
not  finite  doctrines  which  it  must  believe,  and  finite  ordi-- 
nances  which  it  must  perform,  but  an  unspeakable  image  of 
the  ideally  true  and  fair  lifted  far  above  it,  as  the  heavens 
are  above  the  earth.  This  is  what  the  praying  Publican 
saw  ;  hence  his  self-reproach,  and  hence  too  his  greater 
nearness  to  God  than  the  Pharisee's.  But  of  course  if  it  be 
not  the  eternal  soul  that  looks  upward,  but  only  some  theo- 
logically trained  understanding,  the  image  seen  is  of  a  very 
different  order. 


SEMPLE.J  ETERNAL  LIFE.  281 


XVIII. 
ETEKKAL  LIFE. 

BY    THE    RET.    ADAM    EEMPLE,    B.  D.,    HUNTLY, 

"  And  this  is  life  eternal,  that  they  might  know  thee,  the  only 
true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast  sent." — John  xvii,  3. 

The  phrase  "  eternal  life  "  conveys  to  many  minds  the 
idea  of  unlimited  duration  of  existence.  It  strikes  them 
first  and  chiefly  as  a  life  that  will  never  end,  but  will  con- 
tinue unbroken,  after  all  that  they  have  been  accustomed 
to  regard  as  most  stable  and  enduring  has  ceased  to  exist. 
The  element  of  duration  is  not  unfrequently  regarded  as  the 
most  prominent  element  of  eternal  life.  And  this  promi- 
nence may  be  due  to  the  contrast  which  the  phrase  "  eter- 
nal life  "  presents  to  the  period  of  man's  visible  life,  and 
the  answer  it  furnishes  to  the  wail  that  has  been  echoed  in 
all  ages,  that  human  life  is  too  short  for  human  work — that 
it  is  but  as  a  shadow,  a  span,  a  tale  that  is  told.  The  trees 
whose  blossoms  delighted  our  infant  eyes  remain  unchanged 
when  our  eyes  are  dimmed  by  years  ;  the  sea,  which  ripples 
its  music  in  our  ears,  has  sung  the  same  notes  in  the  ears  of 
a  thousand  generations  ;  men  come  and  men  go,  but  the 
world  seems  to  remain  for  ever  the  same.  When,  therefore, 
we  hear  of  an  "  eternal  life,"  we  naturally  think  of  one  in 
which  all  this  is  changed — where  it  is  the  duration  of  the 
world  that  is  short  and  transient,  the  life  of  man  that  is  en- 
during and  perpetual.  We  think  of  man,  as  the  possessor 
of  eternal  life,  surviving  when  the  trees  have  withered  and 


282  ETERNAL  LIFE.  [sehmon  xviii. 

the  sea  is  silent,  even  when — if  that  shall  ever  he — the 
whole  material  creation  has  been  blotted  out  of  existence. 

But  that  this  is  not  the  meaning  of  eternal  life,  that  in- 
finite duration  is  not  its  most  important  element.  Scripture 
makes  plain  to  us.  For  it  is  there  described  as  a  state  of 
unmingled  bliss,  of  unalloyed  joy — as  that  which  is  of  all 
things  most  desirable  by  man.  Now,  the  mere  prolongation 
of  life  is  not  by  itself  a  thing  to  be  desired.  Bare  life  is 
not  necessarily  a  blessing.  We  can  easily  imagine  cases 
in  which  death  is  better  than  life  ;  circumstances  which 
cause  a  man  to  pray  for  death  as  earnestly  as  ever  captive 
sighed  for  liberty.  There,  for  instance,  is  a  soldier  who  has 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  men  high  in  office 
whisper  to  him  that  great  rewards  will  be  his,  and  picture 
the  brilliant  career  that  will  be  opened  to  him,  if  only  he 
betray  his  country  ;  but  indignantly  he  turns  from  them 
with  the  words,  "  Death  rather  than  dishonor  !  "  Or,  again, 
ask  him  on  whom  hopeless  disease  has  fastened  if  he  would 
have  this  life  of  his  made  everlasting,  and  he  will  cry  out 
in  his  agony,  "  Nay,  rather  let  me  die."  No,  life  is  not 
necessarily  a  boon,  and  an  eternity  of  life  might  be  the  bit- 
terest curse  that  ever  lighted  on  man.  Give  to  one,  whose 
heart  has  become  so  dulled  to  the  influence  of  virtue  that 
goodness  is  seen  by  him  but  as  a  fading  shadow,  and  felt  by 
him  as  the  perfume  of  flowers  which  he  can  never  pluck — 
give  to  such  a  man  a  lease  of  life  which  will  never  end,  and 
you  have  given  him  eternal  life  indeed,  but  an  eternity  that 
might  gladly  be  exchanged  for  annihilation.  An  eternity 
of  pain  and  woe  is  equally  enduring  with  that  of  perfect 
happiness,  and  each  is  an  eternal  "  life."  If,  then.  Scripture 
represents  eternal  life  as  that  which  is  of  all  things  most 
desirable,  and  if,  as  we  have  seen,  the  simple  duration  of 
life  may  be  of  all  things  the  most  undesirable,  it  follows 
that  mere  duration  is  by  no  means  the  main  element — nor 
in  any  sense  a  characteristic  element — of  eternal  life.     The 


\ 


saiiPLE.]  ETERNAL  LIFE.  283 

phrase  can  have  reference  only  to  a  state  or  condition  of  the 
soul.  That  this  state  lasts  for  ever  is  true  ;  but  that  is  also 
true  of  many  other  things,  and  can  not  therefore  enter  into 
our  consideration  of  the  true  nature  of  eternal  life.  The 
question  we  have  to  answer  is  not,  How  long  does  this  state 
last  ?  but  What  is  the  state  which  is  thus  perpetuated  ? 

The  answer  is  furnished  by  the  words  of  our  text,  which 
makes  no  reference  to  duration.  When  we  speak  of  eternal 
life,  we  mean  simply  the  knowledge  of  the  only  tx'ue  God, 
and  of  Jesus  Christ  whom  He  has  sent.  What,  then,  is 
meant  by  such  knowledge  ? 

Now,  of  all  knowledge,  whether  of  things  sacred  or  pro- 
fane, there  are  two  kinds — a  false  and  a  true.  The  false  is 
that  in  which  the  facts  which  are  known  remain  always 
apart  from  the  knowing  mind,  as  things  which  we  can  look 
at  and  reason  about,  but  which  no  more  form  part  of  our- 
selves than  the  stone  we  hold  in  our  hand.  We  possess 
such  knowledge  in  the  same  sense  as  a  casket  contains  its 
jewels  :  the  jewels  are  valuable,  no  doubt,  but  the  casket  is 
none  the  better  for  them.  We  may  admire  the  stores  of 
knowledge  which  some  learned  man  displays,  but  if  he  iden- 
tifies himself  in  no  way  with  his  knowledge — if  it  remains, 
as  it  were,  something  foreign  to  him — we  feel  that  the  man 
is  little  the  better  for  all  he  knoAvs  ;  that,  indeed,  he  no 
more  truly  possesses  knowledge  than  the  book  does  from 
which  he  drew  his  stores.  But  there  is  another  kind  of 
knowledge,  where  what  we  know  enters  into  the  soul,  in- 
corporates itself  with  our  nature,  and  breathes  its  influence 
through  our  whole  life.  The  facts  remain  no  longer  cold 
and  dead,  but  become  living  principles,  vivifying  and  trans- 
forming the  soul  which  possesses  them.  The  jewel-box  be- 
comes itself  a  jewel.  Such  knowledge  is  to  the  soul  what 
the  sap  is  to  the  tree.  The  juices  which  the  roots  draw 
from  the  earth  are  very  different  from  the  tree  ;  but  by 
some  wonderful  transmuting  power,  and  through  mysteri- 


284  ETEENAL  LIFE.  [sermon  xvni, 

ous  processes,  those  juices,  so  different  at  first,  finally  be- 
come wood  and  blossom  and  fruit,  so  that  we  may  truly  say 
the  sap  and  the  tree  are  one.  So,  too,  the  soul  draws  from 
many  sources  the  knowledge  by  which  it  grows  ;  but,  be- 
fore that  can  be  said  to  be  truly  known,  it  must  be  so  worked 
up  and  transmuted — so  assimilated  to  the  nature  of  mind — 
that  the  soul  which  knows  and  the  facts  which  are  known 
become  in  a  sense  one  and  the  same.  If,  then,  what  we 
truly  know  becomes  part  of  ourselves,  our  knowledge  will 
be  best  tested  by  the  extent  to  which  we  act  and  live  it. 
True  knowledge  and  life  can  never  be  separated. 

This  relation  might  be  traced  in  all  spheres  of  knowl- 
ledge,  though  there  are  some  in  which  it  is  more  patent 
than  in  others.  A  man  may  know,  for  instance,  all  that 
geology  teaches,  and  yet  be  little  the  better  for  it,  but  it 
might  be  shown  that  even  here  true  knowledge  has  an  in- 
fluence on  life.  Let  us  take,  however,  a  more  obvious  ex- 
ample. A  great  revolution  has  occurred  in  the  history  of 
a  nation,  and  you  are  able  to  recount  the  acts  which  roused 
the  indignation  of  the  people,  you  can  name  the  leaders  of 
the  movement,  give  the  dates  of  the  battles  which  were 
fought,  and  recite  the  terms  of  the  treaty  that  closed  the 
movement ;  but  in  all  this  you  may  be  no  better  than  the 
book  which  taught  you  these  details.  You  may  be  only  a 
handbook  of  history  that  has  somehow  found  a  tongue.  To 
know  the  movement  truly,  you  must  be  able  to  go  back  in 
thought  to  the  buried  past  and  touch  it  again  into  life,  you 
must  feel  the  great  heart  of  the  nation  throbbing  in  your 
own,  must  realize  the  ferment  of  wrath  which  roused  the 
slumbering  energies  of  the  people,  and  follow  them  in  their 
career  of  struggle,  as  if  you  too  were  living  and  acting  with 
them — in  a  word,  you  must  live  in  thought  what  you  know. 
But  there  are  other  cases  where  this  must  be  done  and  is 
done  in  actual  life  ;  perhaps  the  most  striking  of  which — 
and  one  which  throws  considerable  light  on  the  meaning  of 


SEMPLE.]  ETERNAL  LIFE.  285 

our  text— is  furnished  by  the  poetic  mind.    When  the  sense 
of  beauty,  for  instance,  steals  over  the  sculptor's  soul,  it 
becomes  to  him  the  very  breath  of  life  ;  it  takes  possession 
of  him  and  rules  his  whole  nature,  and  forces  him  to  give 
it  outward  expression  in  the  living  marble.      When  fair 
thoughts,  again,  kindle   the   poet's    imagination,  it   is  no 
longer  he  but  they  who  live  ;  they  dominate  every  faculty, 
they  rule  his  soul  like  a  new  will,  and  he  too  must  utter 
them  forth  in  burning  words.     As  the  lyre,  through  which 
the  wind  is  sweeping,  can  not  but  breathe  out  melodious 
sounds,  so  the  poet  or  the  painter,  over  whose  soul  pass 
thoughts  of  beauty,  must  body  them  forth  in  visible  form. 
Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  moral  and  spiritual  truths  act  in 
the  same  way  as  the  creations  of  genius.     A  man  may,  in- 
deed, know  the  moral  law  in  the  same  way  as  he  knows 
the  constitution  of  the  earth  or  the  distance  of  the  fixed 
stars,  and  it  may  have  as  little  effect  on  his  heart  as  on  the 
tables  of  stone  on  which  it  first  was  graven  ;  but  let  him 
truly  know  that  law,  and  he  will,  with  the  same  necessity 
as  the  poet  writes  or  the  sculptor  carves,  give  it  outward 
visible  expression  in  the  form  of  a  beautiful  life.     The  true 
knowledge  of  the  moral  law  can  never  remain  dead  and 
inert ;  it  must  transmute  the  soul  into  its  own  likeness,  be- 
come, as  it  were,  a  new  will,  expressing  itself  in  holy  desires 
and  loving  words  and  tender  acts. 

These  illustrations  may  serve  to  explain  what  is  meant 
by  "  knowing  "  God.  There  is  a  false  knowledge  by  which 
God  is  known  as  the  dread  and  infinite  Being,  dwelling  in 
mysterious  glory  far  away  in  the  clouds,  possessed  of  mar- 
velous attributes,  which  we  discuss  and  analyze  and  arrange 
in  logical  order,  but  having  no  more  vital  connection  with 
our  hearts  and  souls  than  the  lifeless  corpse  with  the  anato- 
mist who  dissects  it.  Such  knowledge  is  but  ignorance  of 
God,  What  the  knowledge  of  the  moral  law  is  to  the  spir- 
itual man,  what  the  forms  of  beauty  are  to  the  genius,  that 


286  ETEBNAL  LIFE.  [sermon  xviii. 

the  knowledge  of  God  is  to  the  devout  mind.  As  we  truly 
know  the  evil  of  lying  only  when  we  refuse  to  lie,  as  we 
know  the  moral  law  when  we  act  the  moral  law,  so  we 
know  God  only  when  we  live  the  Divine  life,  when  we  re- 
produce on  earth  in  our  dim  human  way  the  glorious  per- 
fections which  constitute  heaven.  So,  too,  like  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  poet,  the  knowledge  of  God  breathes  into  the 
soul  new  energies,  becomes  the  very  life  and  will  of  the  man 
who  possesses  it,  and  compels  him  to  express  his  knowledge 
in  living  act,  and  body  forth  in  his  own  life  the  human  like- 
ness of  the  life  of  God.  God  is  love  ;  and  when  we  learn 
to  know  that  love  in  all  its  depth  and  intensity,  when  we 
recognize  its  massive  projDortions  in  the  guidance  of  the 
world's  history,  and  feel  its  all-embracing  tenderness  in 
every  episode  of  our  own  lives,  we  can  not  but  render  back 
to  God  the  love  He  has  lavished  on  us.  The  knowledge  of 
God's  love  begets  the  Divine  love  in  the  human  heart.  God, 
again,  is  jjerfect  holiness  ;  and  when  we  learn  to  know  that 
holiness  in  Christ,  attracted  as  we  gaze  by  the  faultless 
beauty  of  the  picture,  pervaded  by  the  subtile  influence  it 
breathes  forth,  "  we  are  changed  into  the  same  image  from 
glory  to  glory."  What  God  is  in  love,  in  purity,  in  holi- 
ness, man  in  a  measure  also  becomes.  When  the  knowledge 
of  these  infinite  qualities  enters  into  the  human  mind,  and 
so  becomes  part  of  man's  natui-e,  they  can  not  remain  dead 
and  barren,  for  they  are  living  principles,  and  exist  only  so 
far  as  they  are  carried  into  action.  Just  as  the  sunlight 
which  the  plant  absorbs  is  not  for  ever  lost,  but  comes  forth 
again  in  the  tender-tinted  flowers,  so  the  perfections  of 
God,  which  through  knowledge  penetrate  the  soul,  appear 
again  in  action,  and  lend  a  Divine  beauty  and  sweetness  to 
human  life. 

This  is  also  the  idea  contained  in  the  second  part  of  the 
verse.  Eternal  life  consists  not  onlv  in  the  knowledge  of 
the  only  true  God,  but  also  of  Jesus  Christ  whom  lie  has 


BEMPLE.]  ETERNAL  LIFE.  287 

sent.  What,  we  Lave  to  ask,  is  meant  by  "knowing" 
Christ  ?  Is  it  enough  that  w^e  are  able  to  tell  all  the  mar- 
vels that  attended  his  birth,  to  go  through  all  the  incidents 
of  his  strange  life,  to  recount  his  miracles,  and  repeat  his 
parables  ?  No,  truly  :  these  are  not  Christ,  but  the  vest- 
ments which  may  even  conceal  him  from  us.  The  mere 
facts  of  Christ's  life  may  be  known  as  facts  by  the  atheist 
and  the  hypocrite  as  accurately  as  by  the  most  spiritually- 
minded  of  men,  but  the  life  of  Christ — the  Man  himself — 
lies  deeper  than  his  words  and  acts.  We  must  penetrate 
beneath  the  surface  to  the  moving  spirit,  and  come  into 
living  contact  with  the  heart  and  mind,  which  prompted 
the  actions.  What  avails  our  knowledge  of  Christ's  miracles, 
if  we  feel  not  the  tenderness  and  love  which  speak  in  them 
and  prompted  them  ?  Are  we  the  better  or  wiser  for  our  abil- 
ity to  detail  all  the  mysterious  agonies  of  Calvary,  and  yet 
be  untouched  by  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  which  breathes 
through  them  ?  What  to  us  are  Christ's  kindly  acts  and 
tender  words,  if  our  hearts  be  cold  to  the  human  sympathy 
"which  lies  beneath  them  ?  Not  by  familiarity  with  the  rec- 
ord of  Christ's  outward  life,  not  by  the  knowledge  of  what 
is  patent  to  the  eye,  but  by  communion  with  the  inward 
life — that  communion  which  imbues  us  with  the  living  Spirit 
— docs  Christ  become  known  to  men.  The  mind  which  was 
in  Christ  must  be  in  us — we  must  be  able  in  some  measure 
to  make  our  own  that  tenderness  and  love,  that  purity  and 
self-sacrifice,  which  distinguished  him.  If  we  can  not  die 
as  He  did  for  our  fellow-men  ;  if  we  can  not  by  a  word 
make  suffering  cease  ;  if  we  can  not  bid  the  guilt  of  sin 
depart,  there  are  still  many  ways  in  which  we  can  be 
Christ-like.  We  can  at  least  live  for  our  fellow-men,  and 
so  doing  breathe  that  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  which  produced 
its  noblest  fruit  in  the  death  of  Christ ;  we  can  at  least 
make  suffering  less,  and  soften  the  pains  of  disease  ;  we  can 
at  least  show  the  sinner  the  vileuess  of  his  folly,  and  lead 


288  ETERNAL  LIFE.  [sermon  xviii. 

him  to  that  Love  which  will  say,  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven 
thee."  The  coining  of  Christ  did  not  make  the  sin  and  sor- 
row and  suffering  of  the  world  vanish — his  work  will  still 
be  carried  on  by  those  in  whom  He  lives,  when  each  in  his 
sphere  labors,  by  active  work  or  patient  example,  to  leave 
the  world  better  than  he  found  it.  And  only  when  we  thus 
are  "  laborers  together  with  God,"  when  we  take  up  in  our 
feeble  way  and  according  to  our  opportunities  the  work 
which  Christ  himself  began — when  our  hearts  throb,  though 
faintly,  with  the  same  feelings  as  stirred  the  breast  of  Jesus, 
and  we  are  re-living  (but  yet,  how  far  off  !)  the  life  which 
long  ago  He  led  on  earth — only  then  have  we  attained  that 
state  of  purity,  of  love,  of  self-sacrifice,  which  is  implied  in 
the  knowledge  of  him  whom  God  has  sent.  To  know  Christ 
is,  if  we  dare  say  it,  to  he  Christ. 

From  the  language  of  the  text,  thus  explained,  two  con- 
sequences seem  to  follow. 

In  the  first  place,  eternal  life — or,  as  it  is  sometimes 
called,  the  Kingdom  of  God,  or  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven — 
is  a  state  of  the  soul,  and  not  any  outwai'd  glory.  Our 
ideas  of  the  eternal  kingdom  are  drawn  chiefly  from  the 
brilliant  descriptions  of  the  Apocalypse.  But  when  once 
we  understand  that  eternal  life  is  knowledge — a  property 
only  of  the  soul — these  splendid  descriptions  cease  to  be 
literal,  as  incompatible  with  the  nature  of  a  truly  spiritual 
religion.  Not  in  crowns  and  palms  and  snowy  robes,  not 
in  golden  streets  and  thrones,  does  the  truest  heaven  of  the 
Christian  consist,  but  in  the  knowledge  of  God  and  Christ, 
in  the  possession  by  the  human  spirit  of  the  qualities  that 
distinguish  our  Redeemer.  "  The  kingdom  of  God,"  says 
St.  Paul,  "  is  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost."  When  the  Spirit  of  God  meets  the  spirit  of  man, 
and  from  the  contact  the  light  of  God  leaps  up  in  the  hu- 
man heart,  softening  it  into  sympathy  with  all  distress, 
purifying  it  into  the  love  of  holiness  and  the  horror  of  sin, 


SEMPLK.] 


ETERNAL  LIFE.  289 


and  leading  it  into  the  path  of  the  perfect  life,  then  has  that 
soul  become  the  possessor  of  eternal  life,  an  inhabitant  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

In  the  second  place,  it  seems  to  follow  that  eternal  life 
is  a  present  as  well  as  a  fitture  state.     Too  often  is  it  re- 
garded as  the  reward  of  a  life  of  active  virtue,  as  the  far-off 
hope  which  stimulates  the  fainting  heart  to  "  patient  con- 
tinuance in  well-doing  "  ;  too  often  is  it  supposed  that  only 
when  the  battle  is  over  and  the  victory  won,  shall  we  pass 
beneath  the  dark  gateway  of  death  into  the  bright  peace  of 
the  heavenly  kingdom.     But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  herald 
of  Christ  came  with  the  cry,  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand,"  a  cry  which  Christ  himself  confirmed  by  proclaiming 
to  his  hearers,  "  The  kingdom  of  God  is  come  unto  you." 
Eternal  life,  then,  is  not  set  before  the  world  as  the  prize  of 
patient  purity,  the  reward  of  long-continued  well-doing,  or 
the  stimulus  to  incite  men  to  a  life  of  holiness.     It  is  not  a 
glory  which  only  after  death  will  crown  the  successful  en- 
deavors of  the  faithful  ;  but  it  is  the  purity,  the  well-doing, 
the  holiness  itself.     It  is  the  knowledge  of  God  and  Christ, 
with  all  the  spiritual  virtues  which  attend  it— knowledge 
which,  if  the  rational  nature  of  man  be  no  delusion,  may  be 
ours  now— virtues  which,  if  the  life  of  Christ  have  any  sig- 
nificance, if  his  blessed  example  and  exhortations  have  any 
meaning  for  us,  may  adorn  our  present  earthly  life.    Doubt- 
less, as  the  years  roll  on,  that  knowledge  will  become  fuller 
and  clearer,  the  purity  deeper  and  stronger,  and  the  holiness 
more  perfect ;  but  not  even  in  the  most  distant  age  of 
eternity  can  these  graces  be  different  in  kind  from  what 
they  are  now.     The  tree  may  spread  abroad  its  increasing 
branches,  may  clothe  itself  in  thicker  foliage  and  bring 
forth  sweeter  fruit,  but  it  does  not  thereby  become  a  dif- 
ferent tree  ;  and  so,  to  whatever  perfection  we  may  in  the 
future  attain,  the  life  which  will  blossom  there  is  a  life 
which  has  its  roots  here,  and  has  already  borne  its  fruit  on 
13 


I 


290  ETERNAL  LIFE.  [seemon  xtui. 

this  side  the  grave.  We  weary  ourselves  with  vainly  won- 
dering lohere  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is — whether  in  this 
world  of  ours,  or  in  some  fair  realm  beyond  the  skies  ; 
while  the  important  question  for  us,  and  the  one  that  settles 
all  minor  matters  for  us,  is,  ^ohat  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
really  is.  If  it  be  a  spiritual  kingdom,  then  wherever  and 
whenever  a  soul  is  found  which  is  leal  and  loyal  to  Christ, 
which  in  loving  humility  has  given  up  its  petty  willful  free- 
dom for  the  higher  freedom  of  the  light  of  God,  which 
seeks  for  purity  and  righteousness  as  the  only  atmosphere 
in  which  it  can  truly  live,  and  goes  forth  in  deeds  of  love 
and  self-sacrifice,  there  and  then — whether  in  this  life  or 
the  life  to  come — the  kingdom  of  heaven  is. 


STEVENSON.]    RELIGION-THEOLOG  Y-ECCLESIASTICISM.         291 


XIX. 

EELIGION-TIIEOLOGY-ECCLESIASTICISM. 

BY    THE   REV.  JOUN    STEVENSON,    GLAMIS,    FORFARSHIRE. 

"  Then  said  Jesus  unto  his  disciples,  If  any  man  will  come  after 
me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross,  and  foUow  me."— 
Matt,  xvi,  24. 

"  And  no  man  putteth  new  wine  into  old  bottles  ;  else  the  new 
wine  will  burst  the  bottles,  and  be  spilled,  and  the  bottles  shall 
perish.  But  new  wine  must  be  put  into  new  bottles;  and  both 
are  preserved." — Luke  v,  37,  38. 

"  And  when  he  was  demanded  of  the  Pharisees,  when  the  king- 
dom of  God  should  come,  he  answered  them  and  said.  The  kingdom 
of  God  cometh  not  with  observation :  neither  shall  they  say,  Lo 
here !  or,  lo  there  !  for,  behold,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  within  you." 
— Luke  xvii,  20,  21. 

"  If  any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself, 
and  take  up  his  cross,  and  follow  me." 

These  words  were  spoken  by  our  Lord,  when  lie  first  be- 
gan definitely  to  prepare  the  minds  of  his  disciples  for  the 
humiliation,  and  suffering,  and  death,  which  lay  before  him. 
The  conception  of  a  suffering  Messiah  was  so  alien  to  the 
thought  of  his  time,  that  it  became  needful  to  prepare  the 
minds  of  his  immediate  followers  for  receiving  the  Divine 
idea  of  self-sacrifice,  which  lie  was  to  reveal  in  his  suffer- 
ings and  death.  "From  that  time  forth  began  Jesus  to 
show  unto  his  disciples,  how  that  He  must  go  unto  Jerusa- 
lem, and  suffer  many  things  of  the  elders  and  chief  priests 
and  scribes,  and  be  killed,  and  be  raised  again  the  third 


292      RELIGION— THEOLOGY— ECCLESIASTICISM.    [sermon  xix. 

day."  One  of  them,  with  characteristic  impulsiveness,  re- 
pudiated the  idea  ;  and  Jesus,  reading  at  once  the  earthly- 
thoughts  which  prompted  the  remonstrance  of  Peter,  laid 
down  the  indispensable  condition  of  spiritual  life,  the  Di- 
vine law  of  self-sacrifice  :  "  If  any  man  will  come  after  me, 
let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross,  and  follow  me. 
For  whosoever  will  save  his  life,  shall  lose  it ;  and  whoso- 
ever will  lose  his  life  for  my  sake,  shall  find  it." 

"  No  man  putteth  new  wine  into  old  bottles  ;  else  the 
new  wine  will  burst  the  bottles,  and  be  spilled,  and  the  bot- 
tles shall  perish.  But  new  wine  must  be  put  into  new  bot- 
tles ;  and  both  are  preserved." 

No  open  conflict  had  as  yet  taken  place  between  Christ 
and  the  Jewish  Rabbis  ;  but  it  must  have  been  becoming 
more  apparent  how  impossible  it  was  that  there  could  be 
any  alliance  between  his  teaching  and  theirs.  Questions 
had  arisen  about  the  disciples  of  John  fasting,  and  about 
prayer.  Our  Lord  had  silently  ignored  the  one,  and  had 
prescribed  no  formal  rules  for  the  other,  and  his  disciples 
were  perplexed.  In  answer  to  their  inquiries.  He  pointed 
out  to  them  that  spiritual  teaching  such  as  his  could  never 
be  limited  by  the  rigid  forms  and  mechanical  rules  to  which 
they  were  accustomed.  With  all  his  grand  enthusiasm,  and 
noble  sense  of  the  spiritual  reform  which  was  needed  for  the 
coming  of  Christ,  John  had  tried  the  hopeless  task  of  patch- 
ing up  the  old  garment  of  Judaism.  But  it  was  worn  out, 
and  the  attempt  to  repair  it  only  made  the  rent  worse.  Our 
Lord,  therefore,  at  once  took  up  the  ground  that  the  old 
system  of  the  Jewish  theocracy  was  useless  for  him — that 
it  could  no  more  preserve  the  Divine  revelation  of  Christi- 
anity, than  old  and  worn-out  skins  could  preserve  new  and 
fermenting  wine.  "  New  wine  must  be  put  into  new  bot- 
tles," New  and  higher  forms  were  needed  for  the  doctrine 
which  He  came  to  teach. 


STEVENSON.  J    BELIGIOX—  TIIEOL  0  G  Y—ECCLESIASTICISM.         993 

"  When  He  was  demanded  of  the  Pharisees  when  the 
kingdom  of  God  should  come,  He  answered  them,  and  said, 
The  kingdom  of  God  cometh  not  with  observation  :  neither 
shall  they  say,  Lo  here  !  or,  lo  there  !  for,  behold  the  king- 
dom of  God  is  within  you." 

The  hostility  of  the  Jewish  Rabbis  had  become  more 
l^ronounced,  and  their  attacks  more  virulent.  With  the  de- 
sire of  ensnaring  and  convicting  him,  some  of  the  Pharisees 
put  a  question  to  our  Lord  about  the  coming  of  the  king- 
dom of  God.  These  Pharisees  were  the  ecclesiastics  of 
their  time.  They  busied  themselves  with  the  externals  of 
religion — with  external  institutions,  and  forms  and  ceremo- 
nies. Many  of  them,  like  all  men  in  error,  were  better  than 
their  creed  ;  but  the  essential  nature  of  the  Pharisaism  with 
which  our  Lord  had  to  deal  was  a  formal  and  dead  ecclesi- 
asticism.  He  knew  that  this  lay  at  the  root  of  their  ques- 
tion, and  therefore  he  told  them  that  the  kingdom  of  God 
would  never  come,  as  they  expected,  "  with  observation," 
with  outward  pomp  and  ceremony.  They  were  looking  for 
political  revolution,  and,  as  part  of  a  restored  Jewish  em- 
pire, the  establishment  of  a  great  visible  church,  in  which 
they  should  be  advanced  to  preeminence  and  power.  Jesus 
told  them  that  such  a  kingdom  would  never  come,  that  it 
was  a  dream  and  a  delusion  of  their  own.  He  told  them  fur- 
ther that  his  spiritual  kingdom,  which  was  to  hold  its  sway 
in  the  hearts  of  men,  was  already  in  the  midst  of  them — 
that,  as  it  was  to  come  without  observation,  they  could  not 
point  to  any  outward  signs  of  its  approach,  either  in  the 
political  or  ecclesiastical  worlds,  so  as  to  say,  Lo,  here  it  is  ! 
or,  Lo  there  !  for,  behold,  at  the  very  time  you  are  looking 
for  such  signs  of  its  coming,  it  is  already  silently  making 
its  way  in  the  midst  of  you. 

These  sayings  of  our  Lord  involve  principles  which  are 
peculiarly  applicable  to  Christian  thought,  and  to  the  de 


294      BELIGION— THEOLOGY— ECCLESIASTICISM.    [sermon  xix. 

velopment  of  Christian  life,  in  our  own  day.  The  growth 
of  religious  education,  from  age  to  age,  implies  an  ever-in- 
creasing demand  for  a  clear  apprehension  of  the  vital  prin- 
ciples which  underlie  it,  and  for  the  intelligent  application 
of  these  principles  to  the  circumstances  which  must,  in 
greater  or  less  degree,  hinder  or  advance  it.  But  especially 
is  this  the  case  in  every  age  of  well-marked  transition  like 
the  present.  When  the  historian  of  the  future  seeks  to 
trace  the  development  of  religious  life  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  he  will  find  it  no  easy  task  to  discover  its  vital 
elements  amid  the  antagonisms  of  doctrinal  belief,  and  the 
conflicts  of  ecclesiastical  power.  Old  theological  beliefs  are 
crumbling  around  us.  Old  ecclesiastical  systems  are  falling 
into  pieces.  And  the  religion  of  Christianity  has,  unfortu- 
nately, been  so  identified  with  creeds  and  churches,  that  it 
will  be  a  hard  task  to  trace  the  process  of  their  disintegra- 
tion, and  to  separate  the  essential  elements  of  its  life  from 
their  ruins. 

It  becomes  especially  important,  in  such  circumstances, 
to  realize  the  truth  that  religion  is  in  no  sense  dependent 
upon  any  special  phases  of  doctrinal  belief,  or  upon  any 
peculiar  forms  of  ecclesiastical  institutions.  The  distinct 
recognition  of  this  position  is  necessary  for  the  right  appre- 
hension of  many  of  the  questions  which  are  trying  the 
minds,  and  for  a  just  estimate  of  many  of  the  difticulties 
which  are  perplexing  the  hearts  of  serious  and  earnest  men. 
It  is  with  the  view  of  getting  hold  of  this  truth,  and  of 
keeping  clearly  in  view  the  relations  in  which  our  Lord 
always  placed  religion,  theology,  and  ecclesiasticism,  that  I 
have  brought  these  passages  together.  Special  applications 
are  beyond  my  present  purpose. 

The  sphere  of  religion  is  spiritual ;  the  sphere  of  the- 
ology is  intellectual ;  the  sphere  of  ecclesiasticism  is  politi- 
cal ;  and  however  these  sj)heres  may  run  into  each  other  in 


STEVENSON.]    RELIGION— THEOLOGY— ECGLESIASTICISM.        295 

the  way  of  influence — and  in  this  sense  it  is  neither  desir- 
able nor  possible  to  separate  them — Ave  must  keep  clearly 
in  view  that  it  is  fatal  to  real  life  and  progress  in  religion 
to  identify  with  it,  or  to  substitute  for  it,  either  the  one  or 
the  other. 

I.  The  sphere  of  religion  is  spiritual.  There  is  a  higher 
sphere  investing  alike  the  life  of  sense  and  of  intellect,  a 
sphere  in  which  Avhat  we  call  our  spiritual  life  alone  can 
find  quickening  and  energy.  The  capacity  for  this  spiritual 
life,  which  consists  in  Divine  righteousness,  purity,  and 
love,  is  indestructible.  However  it  has  been  marred  and 
blighted  by  sin,  it  has  never  been  extinguished.  Its  quick- 
ening conies  from  a  Divine  Spirit  within  us,  and  nothing 
outside  of  the  spiritual  sphere  can  originate  it.  To  live  in 
this  higher  sphere,  and  to  be  in  sympathy  with  the  Divine 
Spirit  which  pervades  it,  is  to  be  religious. 

From  such  a  standpoint  we  advance  to  degrees  of  re- 
ligious life.  We  become  religious,  in  greater  or  less  degree, 
as  our  spirits  are  quickened  into  higher  life  by  contact  with 
the  Divine  Spirit,  as  we  intelligently  realize  this  quicken- 
ing, and  as  we  intelligently  put  forth  into  action  the  en- 
ergy, or  vital  force,  which  it  imparts.  Now,  in  whatever 
form  the  energy  of  this  spiritual  life  may  find  its  issue,  it 
must  operate  for  the  Divine  healing  of  a  sinful  life  ;  and 
it  does  so  through  self-sacrifice.  The  distinctive  feature  of 
the  Christian  religion,  on  its  practical  side,  is  the  redeeming 
power  of  self-sacrifice.  The  cross  of  Calvary,  as  the  con- 
centrated expression  of  that  power,  is  the  central  principle 
of  Christianity  :  "I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men 
unto  me."  To  accept  and  to  live  in  the  spirit  of  self-sacri- 
fice is  to  be  Christian.  "  If  any  man  will  come  after  me, 
let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross,  and  follow  me." 
This,  we  venture  to  think,  will  be  conceded  by  most  men, 
however  they  may  differ  when  they  come  to  deal  with 


296      liELIGION— THEOLOGY— ECCLESIASTICISM.    [sekmon  xix. 

questions  of  Christian  theology,  which  arise  when  they  pass 
to  the  dogmatic  treatment  of  the  subject. 

All  our  Lord's  teaching  gathered  around  this  conception 
of  the  higher  Divine  life,  which  is  quickened  within  us, 
going  forth  in  the   saving  power  of    self-sacrifice ;    and, 
where  all  other  religions  have  failed,  the  Christian  religion 
has  proved  itself  to  be  the  power  of  God  for  salvation.     It 
lifts  human  nature  out  of  its  vileness,  and  purifies  it  with 
the  beauty  of  holiness.     It  lifts  us  above  all  the  coarseness 
and  selfishness  of  the  worldly  life,  "  crucifying  the  flesh 
with  the  affections  and  lusts."     It  overcomes  every  evil 
passion  by  which  our  hearts  are  debased,  and  ennobles  us 
with  every  Divine  virtue.     It  calls  us  forth  out  of  darkness 
into  light.    In  proportion  as  we  live  in  the  spirit  of  Christ's 
self-sacrifice,  we  grow  into  the  life  of  God,  which  is  no  self- 
life,  but  a  life  of  self -giving  for  the  welfare  of  all  his  crea- 
tures.    In  proportion  as  self  is  crucified  in  us,  and  as  our 
spiritual  faculties  are  trained  and  disciplined  by  self-renun- 
ciation, light  breaks  in  upon  the  mysteries  of  life,  and  we 
understand  "  the  deep  things  of  God."     The  true  test  of 
religion,  therefore,  is  the  vicarious  love  which  the  Divine 
Spirit  awakens  in  us — the  love  which  "seeketh  not  her 
own,"  but  he   good   of    others,  the    love  which  is  ready 
always  to  sacrifice  self  for  the  well-being  of  others.     It  is 
Christ's  own  test.     "  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye 
are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another."     "He 
that  loveth  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how  can  he 
love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  ?  "     But  let  the  love  of  a 
brother  be  true,  and  the  love  of   God  is  there.     "  If  we 
love  one  another,  God  dwelleth  in  us,  and  his  love  is  per- 
fected in  us." 

The  right  recognition  of  the  spiritual  sphere  of  religion, 
as  altogether  independent  of  theological  systems  or  ecclesi- 
astical relations,  and  of  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  forces 
which  are  at  work  within  us,  lies  at  the  root  of  the  solu- 


STEVENSON.]    EELIGION-TIIEOLOGY-ECCLESIASTICISM.        297 

tion  of  many  of  tbc  social  problems,  which  have  become  so 
perplexing  under  the  complications  of  modern  civilization. 
The  self -sacrifice  of  Christianity  is  undoubtedly  the  most 
powerful  weapon  for  social  reform.  Nothing,  for  instance, 
strikes  a  thoughtful  observer  of  modern  social  life  with 
deeper  pain,  or  awakens  greater  apprehension  of  danger  to 
our  whole  social  fabric,  than  the  antagonism  between  the 
different  classes  which  compose  it.  The  struggle  between 
capital  and  labor,  which  has  been  going  on  for  years  among 
us,  might  be  cited  as  an  example  of  such  antagonism.  It 
is  incident  to  a  more  complex  civilization,  but  it  is  one  of 
those  questions  with  which  no  principles  of  political  econ- 
omy alone  can  ever  deal  effectively.  It  is  only  when  such 
commands  as  these — "  Rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice, 
and  weep  with  them  that  weep  "  ;  and,  "  Bear  ye  one  an- 
other's burdens,  and  so  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ"— have 
come  to  be  understood  in  a  deeper  meaning  than  has  yet 
been  read  in  them,  and  practiced  with  a  wider  application 
than  has  yet  been  given  to  them — only,  in  short,  when  it  is 
more  deeply  felt  that  true  Christianity  lies  in  self-sacrifice, 
that  class  antagonism  can  be  effectually  removed,  and  the 
problems  which  spring  from  it  satisfactorily  solved.  In 
proportion  as  we  live  in  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  we  be- 
come fellow-workers  with  Christ  in  redeeming  the  world  to 
God. 

II.  The  sphere  of  theology  is  intellectual.  Theology 
is  a  science,  and  we  must  claim  for  it  the  same  place  in  hu- 
man reason,  and  the  same  rights  of  intellectual  investiga- 
tion, which  any  other  science  demands.  It  has  no  claim  to 
Divine  authority  such  as  the  revelation  of  truth  which 
Christ  has  given  has.  It  is,  moreover,  a  progressive  science. 
Creeds  are  but  the  reflection  of  the  thought  of  the  ages 
which  give  them  birth.  Take,  for  example,  the  doctrines 
of  the  universal  Fatherhood  of  God,  and  Brotherhood  of 


298      RELIGION-THEOLOGY-ECCLESIASTICISM.    [sermon  xix. 

Christ.  These  are  the  ideas  of  Christ,  universal  as  all  his 
ideas  were,  but  they  were  destined  to  be  molded  into  nar- 
rower forms  by  the  imperialism  of  the  age  in  Avhich  thev 
were  promulgated.  For  many  centuries  they  have  kept 
these  forms.  The  conceptions  of  God,  and  of  his  relation 
to  Christ,  and  of  our  relations  to  God  through  Christ,  which 
have  molded  the  theological  views  of  men  for  centuries, 
have  been  essentially  imperial ;  and  they  are  still  ruling  the 
minds  of  many  who  can  not  look  beyond  the  historical  as- 
pects of  their  creed.  It  is  only  during  the  last  quarter  of  a 
century  that  the  theological  mind  of  Scotland  has,  to  any 
great  extent,  risen  above  this  conception  of  Divine  impe- 
rialism ;  but  it  is  shaking  off  the  fetters  by  which  imperial 
conceptions  have  sought  to  bind  it,  and  it  is  no  longer  pos- 
sible, in  an  age  of  searching  inquiry  and  of  wider  aspiration 
like  the  present,  to  put  the  new  wine  of  awakened  thought 
about  the  universal  ideas  of  Christ  into  the  old  bottles  of 
the  historical  ci'eeds. 

We  do  not  imply  that  the  religion  of  Christianity  and 
the  speculations  of  theology  are  to  be  dissociated,  as  if 
religion  could  be  dissociated  from  the  highest  intelligence 
and  culture.  In  this  sense  they  are  inseparable.  Theology, 
if  it  is  reverent  in  its  ideal,  will  awaken  and  foster  religious 
feeling  ;  and  religion,  if  it  is  catholic,  will  lead  up  to  a  more 
enlightened  theology.  But  we  must  demand,  in  the  inter- 
ests of  vital  Christianity,  that  theology  shall  not  be  substi- 
tuted for  religion.  It  is  here  that  confusion  exists  in  many 
minds,  and  that  anxiety  is  awakened  in  many  hearts.  The 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  identified  with  creeds,  and  when 
creeds  are  criticised,  or  sought  to  be  modified,  it  is  imagined 
the  religion  of  Christianity  is  imperiled.  But,  as  creeds 
embody  only  the  views  of  particular  schools  of  theological 
thought,  and  not  the  religion  of  Christ,  they  can  in  no  sense 
be  regarded  as  tests  of  religious  life,  far  less  as  commen- 
surate with  the  Christianity  of  Christ. 


8TEVENS0N.]    RELIGION— THEOLOGY^ECCLESIASTICISM.        299 

For  instance,  the  biologist  holds  that  protoplasm  is  the 
physical  basis  of  life  ;  that  "  wherever  there  is  life,  from 
its  lowest  to  its  highest  manifestations,  there  is  protoplasm, 
and  wherever  there  is  protoplasm  there  too  is  life."  The 
theologian,  if  he  has  an  intelligent  grasp  of  the  fundamental 
facts  of  physical  science,  holds  also  that  life  is  a  property 
of  protoplasm.  When  they  pass  from  the  purely  scientific 
to  the  philosophical  and  theological  aspects  of  the  question, 
and  seek  to  determine  the  connection  between  life  and 
thought,  and  to  account  for  their  origin,  they  occupy  wholly 
diflFerent  ground. 

The  biologist,  if  a  materialist,  may  connect  the  vital 
force  of  spiritual  life,  as  he  connects  the  vital  force  of  in- 
tellectual life,  with  the  protoplasm  of  certain  cerebral  cells  ; 
but  he  no  more  denies  the  existence  of  the  one  than  of  the 
other.  He  fails  only  in  his  explanation  of  its  origin.  It 
becomes  a  lesser  matter,  that  he  denies  the  possibility  of 
its  existence  after  the  life  of  these  cerebral  cells  has  be- 
come extinct.  His  denial  is  only  intellectual  error,  and  no 
intellectual  error  can  ever  be  fatal  to  spiritual  life.  He 
may  not  be  a  Theist  in  the  sense  in  which  you  are  a  Theist. 
He  may  not  accept,  as  you  accept,  the  Christian  doctrine  of 
immortality,  but  does  he  thereby  cease  to  be  religious  ? 

And,  within  the  limits  of  what  is  understood  more  strictly 
as  Christian  theology,  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  may  be 
equally  in  the  hearts  of  men  who  hold  the  most  widely 
divergent  views  on  the  questions  with  which  theology  deals. 
The  dogmas,  alike  of  the  Trinitarian  and  of  the  Unitarian, 
are  not  the  test  of  whether  these  men  are  Christians,  and 
have  the  vital  energy  of  spiritual  life  within  them.  Are 
the  spiritual  wants  of  their  nature  dependent  upon  the  so- 
lution of  the  intellectual  questions  which  separate  them? 
Is  the  satisfying  of  these  spiritual  wants  to  depend  upon 
their  accepting,  or  rejecting,  each  the  intellectual  conclu- 
sions of  the  other  ?    Are  the  Divine  Fatherhood  of  God, 


300      RELIGION— THEOLOGY— ECCLESIASTICISM.    [sermon  xix. 

and  the  human  Brotherhood  of  Jesus  of  ISTazareth,  to  cease 
to  be  spiritual  realities  to  our  hungering  souls,  and  are  we, 
wandering  prodigals  and  orphans  of  sin,  to  be  kept  away 
from  the  love  and  forgiveness  of  the  Father  of  reconcilia- 
tion, because  we  are  divided  in  opinion  about  some  question 
of  dogma  which  we  may  never  be  able  to  comprehend  in 
this  life  ?  This  were  indeed  to  give  a  stone  for  bread. 
And,  unfortunately,  this  is  what  theologians  too  often  do. 
We  hear  much  about  the  increase  of  skepticism  in  our  own 
day,  and  irreligion  is  spoken  of  as  the  natural  result.  They 
are  in  no  sense  necessarily  connected.  What  is  commonly 
called  skepticism  is  simply  a  reaction  in  minds  which  have 
outgrown  the  conceptions  of  the  older  theologies — a  reac- 
tion which  is  sometimes  impatient,  often  profoundly  sad — 
and  theologians,  in  their  blindness,  dread,  and  suspect,  and 
condemn  it.  It  is  not  thus  that  they  can  help  it ;  not  thus 
that  they  can  satisfy  the  intellectual  craving  which  excites 
it ;  not  thus  that  they  can  meet  the  spiritual  aspirations 
which  are  the  deepest  sources  of  its  unrest.  While  scien- 
tific theology  must  necessarily  be  the  study  only  of  the  few, 
there  are  the  many  who  can  not  be  at  peace  till  their  intel- 
lects are  satisfied  ;  and  it  is  the  wisdom  of  the  theologian 
to  provide  them  with  intellectual  conclusions,  which  are  as 
broad  as  the  conceptions  of  Jesus  Christ.  Modem  skepti- 
cism is  in  some  aspects  a  healthy  sign.  While  it  is  true 
that  a  creed  of  mere  negations  has  not  the  same  power  to 
nourish  spiritual  life  as  belief  which  is  positive,  if,  at  the 
same  time,  it  is  reverent,  and  tolerant,  and  humble,  there  is 
often  far  more  of  living  thought  and  of  real  progress  in  the 
divine  life,  in  what  theologians  condemn  as  skepticism,  than 
can  possibly  exist  in  belief  which  claims  to  have  exhausted 
revelation,  and  to  have  attained  the  sum  of  all  truth. 
Skepticism  in  belief  is  hostile  to  religion,  alone  when  it 
degenerates  into  indifference,  or  becomes  the  ally  of  im- 
morality.    We  are  living,  as  I  have  said,  in  an  age  of  well- 


BTEVENSON.J    nELlGIOy-TIlEOLOG  Y-ECCLESIASTICISM.        301 

marked  transition,  when  it  is  of  vital  importance  to  keep 
this  in  view  :  tliat  whatever  intellectual  antagonisms  in  the 
sphere  of  theology  may  arise  to  darken  our  path,  and  what- 
ever intellectual  conclusions  we  may  reach  in  regard  to 
questions  of  dogma,  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  these  : 
"  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness, 
faith,  meekness,  temperance." 

III.  The  sphere  of  ccclesiasticism  is  political.  Religion 
is  not  to  be  identified  with  any  ecclesiastical  institutions, 
or  limited  by  any  ecclesiastical  forms.  "  The  kingdom  of 
God  cometh  not  with  observation."  It  has  no  extei*nal 
constitution,  or  organization  of  forms.  We  can  not,  there- 
fore, identify  it  with  Churches,  or  with  any  ecclesiastical 
machinery,  so  as  to  say,  Lo,  here  it  is  !  or  Lo,  there  ! 
When  men  talk  of  the  ideal  of  the  Church,  they  speak  of 
a  state  of  spiritual  perfection  which  we  are  reaching  after, 
but  can  never  attain  in  this  world.  The  Church,  in  the 
common  acceptation  of  the  term,  is  an  external  institution, 
made  up  of  a  multiplicity  of  imperfect  organizations  ;  and 
no  ecclesiastical  form,  or  multiplicity  of  forms,  can  embody 
the  kingdom  of  God,  any  more  than  a  creed,  or  combina- 
tion of  creeds,  can  embody  Divine  truth.  At  the  very 
moment  when  men  are  identifying  vital  Christianity  with 
individual  Churches,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  silently  and 
surely  asserting  its  supremacy  independently  of  all  forms 
of  ecclesiastical  life. 

In  saying  this  we  do  not  undervalue  Churches  as  socie- 
ties of  Christian  men.  They  are  necessary,  in  some  form, 
as  the  exponents  of  Christian  action,  just  as  creeds  are  the 
necessary  result  of  Christian  thought ;  but  to  substitute 
the  one  for  the  other,  in  either  case,  is  to  mistake  the  form 
for  the  substance,  and  to  accept  the  letter  which  killeth  for 
the  spirit  which  givcth  life. 

In  all  the  vexed  ecclesiastical  questions  which  are  try- 


302      BELIGION- TEEOLOG T-ECCLESIASTICISM.    [sermoii  xix . 

ing  men's  minds  at  the  present  day — such,  for  example,  as 
the  connection  between  Church  and  State,  a  question  promi- 
nent, and  destined  to  become  more  prominent,  in  Scotland  ; 
or  the  limits  of  Ritualism,  a  question  of  the  deepest  grav- 
ity in  the  Church  of  England — it  is  of  vital  importance  to 
keep  in  view  that  these  are  questions  of  mere  polity. 
Whether  Ave  regard  the  connection  between  Church  and 
State  as  essential,  or  non-essential,  to  the  health  and  vigor 
of  national  religious  life,  we  should  remember  that  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  not  to  be  limited  by  connection  with 
any  Church.  Then,  a  great  visible  Church,  a  Church  great 
in  ecclesiastical  machinery  and  means  of  worldly  power, 
grand  in  ceremonial  and  gorgeous  in  ritual,  may,  nay  does, 
do  a  great  deal  of  good  in  its  own  way  ;  but  vital  religion 
is  in  no  sense  dependent  upon  these  things.  Churches 
serve  to  advance  the  kingdom  of  God  in  proportion  as  they 
are  living  and  growing  in  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ,  but 
they  may  be  only  hindrances  to  the  progress  of  that  king- 
dom. Indeed,  the  Church,  no  less  than  the  world,  has 
often  hindered  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  by  set- 
ting up  some  little  kingdom  of  her  own  in  its  place  ;  and 
the  more  surely  the  true  kingdom  comes,  the  more  surely 
the  influence  of  eternal  righteousness  and  purity  and  love 
is  felt  among  us,  the  more  surely  will  all  the  little  king- 
doms of  the  Church,  as  she  now  exists,  be  swept  away. 
We  are  no  nearer  to  the  solution  of  the  question,  "  What 
is  the  Church  of  the  future  ?  " — a  question  to  which  each 
section  of  the  Church  is  too  often  blinded  by  the  nearer 
and  narrower  one,  "  What  is  the  future  of  our  Church  ?  " — 
I  say,  we  are  no  nearer  to  the  solution  of  the  question, 
"What  is  the  Church  of  the  future?"  in  any  sense  in 
which  a  solution  of  it  is  desirable,  till  we  come  to  realize  it, 
that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  a  far  vaster  kingdom  than  any 
Church,  or  any  multiplicity  of  Churches,  can  embrace. 
What  wonder  that  amid  all  the  ecclesiastical  battles  of 


STEVENSON.]    RELlGION-TIlEOLOGY-hCCLESIASTICISM.         303 

Cburches,  reformed  and  unreformed,  orthodox  and  hetero- 
dox, higli  and  low,  evangelical  and  non-evangelical,  men  of 
earnest  thought  and  life  grow  wearied  at  heart,  and  become 
more  and  more  disposed  to  cast  all  Churches  aside,  and  to 
say,  "  The  kingdom  of  God  is  a  far  more  living  thing  to 
me  than  I  can  find  it  to  be  in  any  of  your  Churches."  Nor 
should  it  be  forgotten  that  there  is  no  more  deadly  enemy 
to  the  progress  of  vital  religion  than  the  spirit  of  mere 
ecclcsiasticism.  It  can  not  sec  beyond  its  own  sect,  and 
the  dogmas  of  its  own  creed.  Bigotry,  intolerance,  and 
the  worst  spirit  of  controversy  seem  to  be  inherent  in  it. 
All  history  teaches  us  the  same  lesson  :  that  there  are  no 
views  more  contracted,  no  hatreds  more  intense,  no  disputes 
more  bitter,  no  controversies  more  uncompromising,  than 
those  which  have  been  cherished  and  carried  on  by  eccle- 
siastics, in  the  name  of  religion  and  of  Christianity. 

With  such  views  of  our  Loi'd's  teaching  in  regard  to 
the  relations  of  religion,  theology,  and  ecclcsiasticism,  we 
would  plead  for  greater  catholicity  of  spirit. 

If  a  man  claims  to  be  catholic,  he  is  too  often  pro- 
nounced "  broad  church,"  "  latitudinarian,"  "  a  freethinker," 
or  characterized  by  some  similar  term,  meant  to  be  a  bad 
name.  It  is  profoundly  saddening  often  to  find  men,  who 
seem  to  be  large-hearted,  manifesting  a  spirit  of  narrow- 
ness, and  exclusiveness,  and  intolerance  whenever  creeds  or 
Churches  come  into  question.  Nothing  can  be  further  re- 
moved from  the  mind  of  Christ  than  such  a  spirit.  He  had 
tolerance  for  all  types  of  religious  character  and  thought, 
of  religious  belief  and  worship — all  types  of  religious  char- 
acter :  the  "  Israelite  indeed  in  whom  there  is  no  guile," 
and  the  young  ruler  who  "went  away  sorrowful  because 
he  had  great  possessions  " — all  types  of  religious  thought  : 
the  calm,  contemplative  mind  of  Mary,  sitting  at  his  feet  in 
rapt  confidence,  and  the  intellectual  skepticism  of  Thomas, 


304      HELlGION-TIlEOLOGY-ECCLESIASTICmM.    [sermok  xix. 

because,  deep  below  bis  refusal  to  believe  witbout  a  sign, 
tbere  was  bonest  doubt  and  perplexity — all  types  of  reli- 
gious belief :  tbe  Sadducee  witb  bis  unspiritual  creed,  as 
well  as  tbe  earnest  believer  in  bimself  as  tbe  Son  of  God — 
all  types  of  religious  worsbip  :  tbe  true  worsbiper,  wbetber 
at  Jerusalem  or  Gerizim — tbe  worsbip  of  tbe  beart,  bow- 
ever  feeble  its  ligbt,  or  fantastic  its  form. 

We  would,  tberefore,  plead  for  greater  catbolicity  in 
tbeology.  As  creeds  are  only  tbe  reflection  of  tbe  tbougbt 
of  tbe  ages  wbicb  give  tliera  birtb,  we  sbould  be  ready  to 
modify  and  cbange  tbera  witb  tbe  growtb  of  tbeological 
tbougbt,  and  witb  tbe  advancement  of  scientific  discovery. 
Cbristianity  bas  notbing  to  fear,  but  mucb  to  gain,  from 
free  bistorical  criticism,  and  from  tbe  ligbt  of  scientific 
researcb.  If,  tberefore,  men  wbo  are  dealing  witb  tbe 
deepest  problems  of  buman  life  and  destiny,  and  are  searcb- 
ing  for  Divine  trutb  witb  an  earnestness  and  reverence 
befitting  tbe  profound  questions  wbicb  perplex  tbem — if 
scientific  men,  wbo  are  devoting  tbeir  lives  to  fatbom  tbe 
mysteries  of  creation,  and  to  elucidate  tbe  eternal  and  im- 
mutable laws  wbicb  govern  tbe  universe — if  pbilantbro- 
j)ists,  wbo  are  laboring  witb  self-sacrificing  devotion  for 
tbe  amelioration  of  tbe  evils  wbicb  burden  bumanity,  can 
not  accept  tbe  special  forms  of  Cbristian  tbeology  wbicb 
you  present  to  tbem,  refrain  from  stamping  tbem  as  skep- 
tics and  unbelievers.  And,  if  men  wbo  bave  received  tbe 
same  creed  can  not  regard  some  of  its  special  dogmas  in  tbe 
same  ligbt  in  wbicb  you  regard  tbem,  refrain  from  suspi- 
cion, and  intolerance,  and  persecution.  Let  us  believe  tbat 
catbolicity  of  spirit  is  a  greater  virtue  tban  ortbodoxy  of 
belief,  and  tbat  tolerance  for  all  buman  differences  is  more 
precious  tban  zeal  for  personal  convictions.  Let  us  be- 
lieve tbat,  in  views  and  systems  of  trutb  wbicb  differ  most 
widely  from  our  own,  tbere  may  be  tbe  same  divine  life 
and  bope  ;  and  let  us  acknowledge  and  rejoice  tbat  tbe 


STEVENSON.]    EELIGION-TIIEOLOG  F-ECCLESIASTICISM.         305 

outer  form  is   nothing   if   it   breathes  the  spirit   and  the 

life. 

We  would  plead,  also,  for  greater  catholicity  of  spirit 
in  the  Churches.  The  spirit  of  sectarianism  has  eaten  deep 
into  the  heart  of  religion  in  Scotland.  Nowhere  else  per- 
haps can  we  find,  at  least  to  the  same  extent,  the  melan- 
choly spectacle  of  such  a  multiplicity  of  Churches,  pro- 
fessing to  be  animated  by  the  love  of  God,  yet  so  deeply 
estranged  from  each  other,  professing  to  desire  the  common 
good,  yet  undermining  each  other  so  systematically  in  their 
efforts  to  promote  it.  It  is  inevitable  that  sects  shall  exist. 
The  union  of  which  many  good  men  dream,  which  would 
seek  to  obliterate  sects,  would  produce,  not  Christian  unity, 
but  only  a  dead  uniformity.  It  is  the  spirit  of  ecclesiasti- 
cism,  not  of  difference,  that  we  have  to  strive  against  in 
the  Churches.  It  is  the  spirit  which  can  see  what  is  right 
only  in  what  is  its  own  that  we  have  to  deprecate  and 
deplore.  In  proportion,  and  only  in  proportion,  as  the 
Churches  realize  the  religion  of  Christianity  in  self-sacri- 
fice, will  intolerance,  division,  persecution,  and  strife,  give 
place  to  large-hearteduess,  unity,  concord,  and  peace. 


306  UmXY.  [SEKMON   XX. 


XX. 
UNITY. 


BT   THE   REV, 


"That  they  all  may  be  one;  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in 
thee." — Jonu  xvii,  21. 

"  Ye  are  all  the  children  of  God  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus." — 
Gal.  iii,  28. 

Christiais"  Unity  is  a  subject  about  wliicli  it  is  much 
easier  to  feel  than  to  speak.  It  is  so  highly  spiritual  a 
thing  that  it  is  difficult  to  convey  ideas  about  it  through 
the  coarse  medium  of  words.  It  is  so  broad  and  compre- 
hensive a  thing  that  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  those  seem- 
ing contradictions  which  arise  when  we  turn  to  look  first 
at  one  side  of  it  and  then  at  another.  Yet  in  its  essence 
Christian  Unity  is  a  very  simple  thing — a  thing  which, 
however  alien  to  the  atmosphere  of  theological  and  eccle- 
siastical debate,  is  known,  in  its  nature  at  least,  by  every 
meek  and  childlike  spirit. 

In  the  broadest  sense  it  may  be  said  that  every  discov- 
ery of  truth,  whether  in  physical  science,  philosophy,  or  re- 
ligion, is  a  contribution  to  an  ever-growing  knowledge  of 
the  nature  of  that  Unity  which  God  is — a  revelation  of  the 
nature  of  Unity  as  that  exists  perfectly  in  God.  In  the 
full  sense  God  is  One — rounded — whole — complete.  It  is 
therefore  as  men  grow  in  knowledge  of  what  God  is,  that 
their  knowledge  increases  of  what  unity  is  ;  and  it  is  as 
they  become  liker  God  that  unity  is  realized  in  them, 
whether  as  individuals  or  as  a  race. 


PATRICK  STEVENSOK.]  UNITY.  gQiJ- 

On  its  spiritual  side,  this  is  the  definition  of  unity  in  the 
motto  from  the  fourth  Gospel  which  is  prefixed  to  this  ser- 
mon. The  prayer  there  ascribed  to  Jesus  is  a  prayer  for 
Unity.  But  it  is  more  than  that.  It  is  a  definition  of 
the  nature  of  the  Oneness  asked  for.  In  whatever  ways 
God  was  in  Christ,  in  whatever  ways  Christ  was  in  God, 
these  are  the  ways  in  which  men  can  be  truly  one — one 
with  each  other,  with  Christ,  and  with  God.  That  we 
fall  short  as  yet  of  this  Oneness  in  degree  need  not  and 
does  not  prevent  our  having  it  in  part ;  and,  if  we  would 
have  more  of  it,  Ave  will  attain  it  as  we  have  in  us  more  of 
the  mind  that  is  in  him. 

St.  Paul's  central  thought  about  the  Christian  Church 
was  the  personal  relation  of  each  believer  to  Christ,  brought 
about  by  the  exercise  of  what  he  calls  "Faith."  Whatever 
the  apostle's  views  may  have  been  as  to  the  bearing  of 
Christ's  Avork  upon  God's  relations  to  men — and  this  point 
we  are  not  now  called  upon  to  discuss — he  always  meant  by 
the  terra  Faith  that  in  the  exercise  of  which  each  soul  en- 
ters for  itself  into  spiritual  fellowship  Avith  Jesus — partakes 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  the  principle  of  a  new  life — realizes 
itself  as  a  spiritual  child  of  God,  and  as  already  in  part  a 
sharer  of  God's  nature.  It  is  true  that  St.  Paul  limits  the 
idea  of  the  Christian  Church  to  those  in  whom  this  fellow- 
ship with  Christ  Avas  found.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
fellowship  being  found,  the  member  of  the  Christian  Church 
may  have  been  Jew  or  Gentile,  bond  or  free.  He  teaches 
that,  irrespective  of  nationality,  previous  religious  connec- 
tion, social  condition,  or  preferences  of  form,  all  in  whom 
this  fellowship  of  spirit  exists  are,  in  virtue  thereof,  one 
with  Christ  and  one  with  each  other.  He  teaches  that  the 
Christian  Church  is  necessarily  and  inherently,  up  to  the 
measure  of  this  fellowship,  a  unity.  lie  teaches  that  only 
in  so  far  as  the  Church  ceases  to  be  Christian  can  it  cease 
to  be  One.     In  the  being  made  to  drink  into  the  "one 


308  UNITY.  [SEKMON   XX. 

spirit "  of  Jesus  consisted  the  unity  of  the  Church  of  his 
day.  Therein  lay  the  unity,  and  that  not  as  a  thing  future 
but  as  a  thing  present — not  as  an  ornament  to  be  added,  at 
some  indefinitely  future  period,  to  an  otherwise  finished 
temple  of  God,  but  as  the  first  and  most  immediate  conse- 
quence of  the  founding  of  that  temple  in  Christ — not  as  a 
blossom  or  flower  destined  to  be  only  the  last  and  crowning 
beauty  of  the  tree  which  God  had  planted,  but  as  the  very 
first  leaf  which  the  life,  quickened  in  the  seed,  had  pro- 
duced— as  a  thing  therefore  to  be  realized  as  having  come — 
as  essential,  indeed,  to  the  existence  of  the  Christian  Church 
at  all — as  a  thing  inherent  in  the  nature  of  Christianity — 
apart  from  which  it  must  cease  to  be  Christianity.  St. 
Paul  teaches  that  in  virtue  of  the  common  faith  in  Christ 
— because  of  the  reference  Avithin  each  Christian's  soul  of 
the  self -same  spirit  of  holiness — all  her  members  are  in  this 
sense  sons  and  daughters  of  one  God,  brethren  and  sisters 
of  one  Saviour  and  of  each  other  ;  the  Christian  Church  is 
in  all  her  members,  and  throughout  all  her  branches,  essen- 
tially, inherently,  from  the  very  nature  of  her  central  and 
animating  principle,  a  unity. 

Why,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  do  we  hear  so  much  in  our 
own  time,  and  among  those  who  profess  to  agree  with  the 
sentiments  of  Christ  and  St.  Paul,  about  the  necessity  for 
bringing  about  unity  in  the  Christian  Church — and  why 
are  so  many  schemes  propounded  for  the  purpose  of  attain- 
ing it  ? 

Chiefly,  I  believe,  because  members  of  the  several 
branches  of  the  Christian  Church  have  largely  forgotten 
three  simple  truths  : 

1,  That  unity  is  a  thing  which  comes  with  the  indwell- 
ing of  the  Spii-it  of  God — with  spiritual  fellowship  with 
Jesus  Christ — so  that,  wherever  that  spiritual  indwelling 
and  fellowship  is  not,  no  schemes  which  have  theological 
and  ecclesiastical  sameness  as  their  end  can  do  aught  to 


PATRICK   STEVENSON.]  UNITY.  309 

bring  it  about ;  so  that,  on  the  other  hand,  where  that  spir- 
itual indwelling  and  fellowship  exists,  such  schemes  can  do 
little  other  than  endanger  men's  estimate  of  its  importance. 

2.  That  the  authority  upon  which  spiritual  truth  must 
ultimately  rest  is  its  own  intrinsic  light. 

3.  That  in  consequence,  not  of  the  instability  or  change- 
ableness  of  that  truth,  but  of  its  vastness,  unity  must  be 
accompanied  by,  or  rather  must  comprehend  within  itself, 
almost  endless  doctrinal  and  sesthetical  variety. 

We  live  in  days  when  it  is  worse  than  vain  to  imagine 
that  sameness,  whether  in  thought  or  in  government  or  in 
worship,  even  supposing  it  attainable,  can  be  any  longer 
mistaken  for  Christian  unity.  Intellectual  power  and  spirit- 
ual insight  are  being  every  day  brought  to  bear  with  star- 
tling force  upon  the  sacred  books,  not  only  of  Christianity, 
but  of  the  other  religions  of  the  world.  Their  historical 
value  is  being  again  estimated,  their  internal  truthfulness  is 
being  again  appraised,  and  their  contents  are  being  com- 
pared, with  a  view  to  a  relative  measure  of  the  value  of 
each  as  a  moral  guide  of  mankind.  No  power  can  stop  this 
process.  Its  results  are  as  yet  only  very  partially  wrought 
out.  They  have  not  yet  been  widely  spread  in  any  popular 
religious  literature.  We  have  passed  through  a  religious 
revolution,  and  men  are  only  beginning  to  know  it.  As, 
howevei',  that  knowledge  spreads,  we  must  be  prepared  to 
find  more  differences  of  opinion  than  exist  at  present,  as  to 
what  is  fundamental  in  religion — as  to  how  much  of  it  is 
common  to  at  least  the  higher  faiths  of  the  world — as  to 
Avhat  the  sacred  books  are  in  themselves  and  in  their  rela- 
tions to  each  other — as  to  their  whole  place  and  bearing, 
whether  in  regard  to  doctrine,  government,  or  ritual.  These 
are  questions  which  can  not  be  answered  by  any  one  age 
for  the  ages  that  are  to  follow.  They  are  asked  afresh,  and 
afresh  they  must  be  answered,  from  time  to  time.  Our  own 
is  such  a  time,  and,  being  so,  the  problem  arises,  "  Is  it 


810  UNITY.  [SERIION  XX. 

possible  to  preserve  and  to  increase  Christian  unity  through- 
out the  changes  that  are  sure  to  come  ?  " 

To  any  one  who  has  formed  large  and  comprehensive 
ideas  of  the  nature  of  unity,  the  answer  must  be  Yes.  It  is 
Renan  who  has  said  that  Christianity,  "  to  renew  itself,  has 
but  to  return  to  the  Gospel."  This  is  very  specially  true 
of  our  time.  What  we  need  is  to  go  back  to  the  "  sim- 
plicity" that  was  in  Christ.  We  have  got  spiritually 
choked  by  a  thick  and  murky  atmosphere  of  creeds  and 
catechisms,  and  of  ecclesiastical  laws  and  forms.  What  we 
need  is  to  breathe  again  the  air  He  breathed  who  was  no 
maker  of  dogma  or  of  ritual — whose  work  was  to  call  up  in 
humanity  the  spirit  of  the  child,  and  to  teach  that  the  true 
worship  of  God  is  that  "  in  spirit  and  in  truth."  What  we 
need  is  to  think  of  the  Christian  Church  as  St.  Paul  thought 
of  it — a  corporation  as  far  as  possible  removed  from  all 
bondage  to  sameness,  whether  of  thought  or  of  form. 

The  body  is  not  the  less,  it  is  all  the  more,  a  unity,  that 
its  different  members  work  in  different  ways  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  common  life  and  the  doing  of  the  common 
work.  "  The  whole  complex  organism,"  as  it  has  been  re- 
cently put,  "  is  a  society  of  cells,  in  which  every  individual 
cell  possesses  an  independence — an  autonomy.  With  this 
autonomy  of  each  element  there  is,  at  the  same  time,  a  sub- 
ordination of  each  to  the  whole,  thus  establishing  a  unity 
in  the  entire  organism,  and  a  concert  and  harmony  between 
all  the  phenomena  of  its  life.  .  .  .  Then  there  devolves  on 
each  cell,  or  group  of  cells,  some  special  work  which  con- 
tributes to  the  well-being  of  all,  and  their  combined  labors 
secure  the  necessary  conditions  of  life  for  every  cell  in  the 
community,  and  result  in  those  complex  and  wonderful 
phenomena  which  constitute  the  life  of  the  higher  organ- 
isms." Thus  does  Science,  pursued  in  a  reverent  spirit,  re- 
venge herself  upon  her  accusers — repeating  to  us,  in  modern 
scientific  phrase,  the  teaching  of  St.  Paul — enforcing  upon 


PATRICE   STEVEKSON.J  U2^ITY.  311 

US,  by  the  revelation  of  nature,  the  teaching  of  our  Lord 
himself.  One  would  think  that  he  who  runs  might  read 
the  lesson.  It  is  passing  strange  and  very  sad  to  think 
how  few,  even  at  this  time  of  day,  are  able  to  do  so. 

Three  great  enemies  to  the  realization  of  the  truth  that 
wheresoever  the  spirit  of  Christ  is  there  is  unity  are  easily 
detected.  These  are  :  the  abuse  of  theology,  the  existence 
of  sacerdotalism  or  priestcraft,  and  the  exaggeration  of 
ceremonial  or  ritual.  To  these  we  may  add  two  others,  as 
being  somewhat  specially  developed  in  our  day — the  one  a 
tendency,  found  in  such  as  are  wearied  of  the  first  and  last 
of  these,  to  seek  refuge  in  what  of  the  past  has  proved  most 
permanent ;  and  the  other  a  tendency,  in  such  as  are  sick 
of  all  three,  to  find  what  they  think  a  haven  of  rest  in  one 
form  or  another  of  scientific  materialism  or  in  agnosticism. 

By  the  strongest  class  of  minds  all  these  dangers  are 
avoided.  Agnosticism  is  dismissed  as  not  only  contrary  to 
experience,  but  as  a  contradiction  in  terms.  We  know — if 
it  be  only  in  knowing  that  we  do  not  know.  Science  is  ad- 
judged her  proper  sphere  and  function.  Within  it  she  is 
left  free  play.  All  of  truth  that  she  is  competent  to  learn, 
nay,  all  of  truth  that  belongs  to  the  matter  and  to  the  en- 
ergy which  she  investigates,  is  gladly  welcomed,  so  far  as 
known,  and  will  be  gladly  welcomed  when  further  known, 
welcomed  as  a  revelation  of  a  side  of  God.  The  test  of 
comparative  value,  in  what  claims  to  be  spiritual  truth,  is 
seen  to  be  the  intrinsic  light  that  shines  from  what  is  put 
forth  as  such.  Its  ultimate  value  is  seen  to  be  independent, 
absolutely  and  relatively,  of  consensus,  whether  of  few  or 
of  many,  and  of  the  duration,  short  or  long,  of  that  consen- 
sus. Ceremonial  is  seen  to  be  valuable,  but  only  as  language 
or  symbol — a  vehicle  to  convey  or  express  religious  opinion 
or  feeling.  Sacerdotalism,  whether  Roman,  Anglican,  Prot- 
estant, or  Scientific,  is  simply  sunk,  ignored,  passed  by,  and 
refused.    And  Theology  has  her  place  and  importance  justly 


813  UNITY.  r^ERMON   XX. 

defined.     She  is  seen  to  be  the  ever-shifting  outcome  of 
attempts  to  compass  the  Infinite  by  the  feeble  powers  of 
reason.     Each  and  every  one  of  these  attempts  is  seen  to 
be  more  or  less  valuable.     It  is  held  to  be  more  or  less  his- 
torically intei'esting.     It  is  noticed  that  each  contains  more 
or  less  truth.     It  is  marked  that  no  one  of  them,  nor  all  of 
them  together,  contains  it  all.     By  such  minds  it  is  seen 
that  Christianity,  as  taught  by  Christ,  is  an  attitude  of  the 
human  spirit  toward  God  and  toward  man  ;  an  attitude,  the 
existence  of  which  no  sameness  of  theological  and  scien- 
tific opinion  will  necessarily  bring  about ;  an  attitude  which 
may  exist  along  with  almost  any  amount  of  scientific  and 
theological  divergence  ;  an  attitude  which  may  be,  and  very 
frequently  is,  present  apart  from  theological  and  scientific 
knowledge  altogether.      In  Christ's  own  day  Christianity 
consisted  simply  in  attachment  to  his  person.     In  our  day 
it  may  be  said  to  consist  simply  in  attachment  to  his  teach- 
ing.    The  idea  of  a  child  and  of  a  brother,  as  realized  in 
the  picture  which  the  Gospels  present,  that  is  Christianity  ; 
and  unity  is  wherever  that  spirit  is,  and  the  extent  of  its 
existence  is  the  extent  of  the  oneness  ;  and  schism,  the 
opposite  of  Christian  unity,  is  seen  to  begin,  not  where  dif- 
ference of  opinion  begins,  or  where  preference  in  feeling 
begins,  but  where  badness  and  bigotry  begin,  where  un- 
charitableness  begins,  where  distrust  and  selfishness  begin. 
As  the  human  body  ceases  to  be  a  unity,  not  when  the  hand 
w^orks  in  one  way  and  the  eye  in  another,  not  when  the  feet 
are  used  for  movement  and  the  head  for  the  very  different 
function  of  thought,  but  when  the  eye  says  to  the  hand,  "  I 
have  no  need  of  thee,"  and  the  hand  to  the  feet,  "  I  have  no 
need  of  you  "  ;  so  is  the  unity  of  Christianity  broken,  not 
when  theological  creeds  diverge,  and  ecclesiastical  laws  and 
observances  differ,  and  forms  of  worship  vary,  but  when 
individuals  or  sections  of  the  Christian  community  make 
their  personal  and  sectional  aims  independent  of  the  good 


PATRICK  STEVENSON.]  UNITY.  3J3 

of  the  community  as  a  whole,  or  cut  themselves  off  in  any 
way  from  the  fellowship  of  search  after  truth,  and  the  help- 
fulness of  mutual  sympathy  and  succor. 

If,  now,  we  turn  for  a  moment  to  contemplate  the  actual 
state  of  feeling  around  us  about  this  matter,  two  closing 
remarks  may  be  made  : 

1.  That  unity,  consisting,  on  its  religious  side,  in  the 
presence  of  the  spirit  of  Christ,  wherever  found — free  play 
being  allowed  for  the  intellect  on  questions  of  science,  phi- 
losophy, criticism  of  sacred  books  and  theology — this  ideal 
is  actually  much  more  seen  and  aimed  at  than  is  apparent  to 
the  superficial  observer. 

This  country  is  sick  at  heart  of  doctrinal  and  ecclesias- 
tical warfare,  and  of  unreasoning  abuse  of  Biblical,  philo- 
sophical, and  scientific  research.  Laymen  have  practically 
ceased — with  exceptions,  of  course — to  persecute  because  of 
difference  of  opinion.  And,  when  the  mass  of  an  army  thus 
steps  aside  from  the  battle,  no  noise  nor  spurring  on  the 
part  of  the  officers  can  long  carry  on  the  fight,  though  it 
may  blind  many  to  the  fact  that  the  combat  is  really  over. 
In  Scotland,  at  least,  the  victory  is  now  on  the  side  of  free- 
dom. Many  contemporary  circumstances  conclusively  de- 
monstrate this.  The  questions  for  the  future  are  these  : 
How  is  that  freedom  to  be  used  with  least  risk  of  abuse  ? 
and,  IIow  is  it  to  help  the  quickening  of  the  religion  and 
morality  of  society  ? 

2.  Since  it  is  already  vain,  and  will  become  increasingly 
so,  for  Churches  to  seek  to  force  thought  and  worship  into 
any  fixed  groves — since,  in  fact,  uniformity,  so  long  mis- 
taken for  unity,  has  been  amply  shown  to  be  both  shallow 
and  impossible — it  would  seem  that  unity  may  be  best  pro- 
moted by  endeavoring  to  bring  the  principles  of  the  life  of 
Christ  to  bear  upon  the  education  everywhere  of  the  Chris- 
tian conscience.  That  the  community  should  be  a  family, 
saturated  with  family  feelings,  and  practicing  a  family  life, 


314  UNITY.  [sermon  XX, 

is  infinitely  more  of  consequence  than  that  all  should  think 
precisely  alike  about  the  Father's  character,  ways,  and  pur- 
poses, or  help  only  such  of  the  brothers  and  sisters  as  be- 
long to  the  same  class,  or  work  at  the  same  work.  The  old 
grounds  of  social  relationship  are  being  broken  up.  The 
old  ways  of  expressing  this  relationship  are  being  changed. 
This  is  inevitable  as  the  family  enlarges,  and  as  the  demands 
of  a  complex  mechanism  increase  the  difficulties  of  the  so- 
cial bond.  Still,  the  relationship  remains.  Men,  as  men, 
are  brothers.  Whatever  their  source,  it  is  a  common  source. 
Whatever  their  destiny,  it  is  a  common  destiny.  That  the 
family  is  large,  and  that  more  rooms  of  earth  are  being 
filled,  does  not  abolish  mutual  duty,  or  open  any  path  to 
freedom  other  than  that  of  discharging  mutual  responsi- 
bility. To  quicken  everywhere  the  filial  and  fraternal  feel- 
ings— to  stimulate  to  that  trust  which  steadies,  and  to  that 
bearing  of  one  another's  burdens  which  is  the  fulfilling  of 
the  law  of  Christ — to  promote  the  cultivation  of  reverence 
for  that  which  transcends  us,  the  deepening  and  broadening 
of  sympathy  for  many-sided  humanity,  and  the  quickening 
of  active  helpfulness — these  have  been  always,  it  is  true,  the 
aims  of  Christianity,  wherever  its  nature  has  been  rightly 
understood  ;  but  that  they  are  its  proper  aims  still  is  just 
what  society  needs  now  to  be  retold.  As  this  conviction 
regains  its  hold,  as  the  central  law  of  the  divine  life,  that 
of  self  giving,  is  seen,  welcomed,  and  followed  each,  as 
he  loseth  his  life,  will  practically  find  that  he  has  therein 
found  it,  and  that  he  is  contributing,  in  his  place,  to  the 
growth  of  that  only  Oneness  which  is  large  enough  to 
satisfy  the  cravings  of  the  human  sou). 


PATRICK  STEVEKSON.]  ETERNAL  LIFE.  315 


XXL 

ETERNAL  LIFE. 

BY    THE    REV.    PATRICK  STEVENSON,    INVERAEITT. 

"  This  is  life  eternal,  that  they  might  know  thee,  tlie  only  true 
God,  and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast  sent." — John  xvii,  3. 

The  notion  of  Eternal  Life,  it  is  here  asserted,  involves 
more  than  the  idea  of  eternal  existence.  Merely  to  exist, 
either  here  or  hereafter,  is  not  necessarily  a  blessing  in  it- 
self. What  kind  of  existence,  then,  is  for  man's  spirit — 
and  that  whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body — worthy 
of  the  name  of  life  ? 

Answered  shortly,  and  in  Christian  phraseology,  that 
kind  of  existence  consists  in  knowledge  of  God  and  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

There  are  many  who,  on  scientific  grounds,  deny  that 
there  is  any  Being  higher  than  man,  who  also  maintain  that 
man,  the  highest  being  of  whom  they  have  any  knowledge, 
is  himself  but  an  automaton,  an  expression  of  energy  work- 
ing through  cells,  his  so-called  consciousness  only  one  form 
of  the  outcome  of  molecular  change.  To  such  minds  there 
can  be  no  moral  right  or  wrong — no  ideal  to  which  we  may 
aspire,  or  from  which  we  may  fall — no  possibility  of  learn- 
ing from  past  success  or  failure — no  futui'e,  in  the  sense  of 
opportunity  for  spiritual  growth — nothing,  in  short,  but  an 
ever-changing  mechanical  present,  over  which  we  can  ex- 
ercise no  control,  which  shifts  continually  through  a  few 
short  years,  and  ends  for  ever  with  the  body's  death. 


316  ETERNAL  LIFE.  [sermon  xxi. 

With  those  who  think  on  this  wise  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  argue.  Your  very  arguments,  they  would  say,  no 
less  than  the  spiritual  phenomena  which  you  allege,  are  but 
so  many  instances  of  our  position.  These  are  themselves 
the  outcome  of  the  forces,  the  working  of  which  you  call 
yourself. 

It  is  refreshing,  therefore,  to  find  that  by  many  a  less 
dogmatic  and  more  rational  position  is  being  gradually 
taken  :  that,  namely,  which,  while  welcoming  every  dis- 
covery of  physical  Science,  admits  that  there  are  ranges  of 
experience,  not  less  real  than  are  her  facts,  which  she  is 
powerless  to  explain.  To  such  minds  Theism  is  at  least  not 
an  absurdity,  nor  a  future  existence  an  impossibility.  To 
such  minds  spiritual  knowledge  of  a  spiritual  Being — and, 
much  more,  spiritual  sympathy  with  an  historical  Being — 
are  not  without  the  range  of  possible  experience.  To  them, 
knowledge  of  God  and  of  Christ  is  at  least  a  perhaps. 

But  experience  is  one  thing  ;  its  explanation  is  another. 
It  may  be  possible,  or  it  may  be  impossible,  to  explain  it. 
Still,  accounted  for  or  unaccountable,  the  experience  re- 
mains. Now,  it  may  be  safely  said  that  the  possession  of  a 
si^iritual  faculty  is  as  true  an  experience  to  such  as  have 
felt  it  as  can  be  any  other  fact  of  their  existence.  And 
millions  of  the  human  family  have  had,  and  millions  still 
have,  that  experience.  They  know  that  they  know  God, 
imperfectly  it  is  true,  but  still  really.  They  know  that  they 
know  Christ,  at  a  distance  it  is  true,  but  still  in  actual  sym- 
pathy. It  is  to  them  as  much  a  fact  that  they  can  hold 
spiritual  intercourse  with  One  higher  than  themselves  as 
that  they  can  hold  every-day  intercourse  with  their  fellow- 
men.  That  they  can  not  explain  every  inner  fact,  any  more 
than  they  can  explain  every  outside  fact,  is  to  them  only 
what  might  be  expected.  The  facts,  however,  remain,  in 
their  inner  as  in  their  outer  life.  These  are  the  "  seers," 
the    "prophets"  of   humanity.     They  have  existed  in  all 


PATRICK  STEVENSON.]  ETERNAL   LIFE.  31'j' 

ages.  Tliey  still  exist,  and  in  their  presence  it  is  im})os- 
sible  to  deny — name  it  how  men  may,  explain  it  how  they 
can  or  can  not — that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  the  "  king- 
dom of  God." 

Thinking  of  these  three  classes  of  minds,  what  are  we  to 
say  about  the  motto  of  this  sermon  ?  It  affirms  two  things 
— that  there  is  a  state  of  soul  which  is  eternal  life,  and  that 
that  state  is  knowledge  of  God  and  of  Jesus  Christ. 

For  the  last-mentioned  class  it  is  unnecessary  to  say 
more.  They  know  in  their  inner  personal  experience,  bet- 
ter far  than  any  words  can  embody  it,  the  meaning  of  the 
text. 

To  the  second-mentioned  class  of  minds — those  to  whom 
spiritual  experience  and  a  spiritual  education,  here  and  here- 
after, are  possibilities — and  to  the  first  class — those  to  whose 
theory  of  the  universe  they  are  not  so — we  grant  that  no 
such  consciousness  as  belongs  to  the  third  class  can  be  to 
them  transferred,  or  by  them  accepted,  by  any  arbitrary  act. 
We  can  only  appeal  to  the  light  that  shines  from  such  words 
as  those  of  the  text,  and  say  that,  as  another  matter  of  ex- 
perience, that  light  has  broken  in  upon  souls  which  for  years 
have  been  unable  to  see  it ;  and  that,  by  all  such,  it  has 
been  welcomed,  when  seen,  as  a  spiritual  reality.  This  be- 
ing so,  the  words  are  at  least  worthy  of  regard,  and  their 
meaning  may  claim  the  most  earnest  consideration  on  the 
part  of  those  to  whom,  as  yet,  that  meaning  has  not  come 
as  defining  their  own  inner  life. 

The  words  mean  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  manifested 
forth  the  character  of  God,  and  that — what  that  character 
is — is  life  for  the  soul  of  man.  They  mean  that  the  kind 
of  existence  that  is  worth  having  is  the  kind  of  existence 
which  God  has,  and  that,  if  we  Avould  know  what  kind  of 
existence  that  is  upon  its  spiritual  side,  we  will  find  the  full- 
est and  highest  revelation  of  it  in  the  picture  which  the 
Christian  Scriptures  present  to  us  of  the  mind  that  was  in 


318  ETERNAL  LIFE.  [sermon  xxi. 

Christ.  They  mean  that  personal  and  experimental  knowl- 
edge of  God — that  is,  the  degree  in  which  any  one  has  in 
him  the  Divine  Spirit — is,  at  any  point  of  existence,  the 
measure  of  his  spiritual  life. 

If  this  be  granted,  it  matters  little  what  phrase  is 
used  to  express  the  meaning.  Say  that  God  knows — then 
knowledge  is  life,  and  ignorance  is  death  for  man.  Say 
that  God  loves  —  then  love  is  life,  and  hatred  is  death 
for  man.  Say  that  God  is  holy — then  holiness  is  life, 
and  sin  is  death  for  man.  Say  that  "  in  himthere  is  no 
darkness  at  all " — then  light  is  life,  and  its  absence  is 
death  for  man.  Go  through  the  dictionary  if  you  will. 
Pick  out  any  adjective  which  describes  a  feature  in  the 
character  of  God.  Then  the  degree  in  which  that  adjec- 
tive describes  my  character  is  the  degree  in  which  my 
spirit  lives.  Take  its  opposite.  Then  the  degree  in  which 
it  is  applicable  to  me  is  the  measure  of  the  remainder  of 
that  "  body  of  death  "  from  which  I  am  yet  undelivered  ; 
and  from  which,  till  I  am  delivered,  my  spirit  simply  refuses 
to  be  satisfied.  "  Gates  of  pearl  and  streets  of  gold  !  " — 
"  Fire  and  brimstone  !  "  He  who  once  realizes  the  nature 
of  the  gulf  which  separates  spiritual  life  from  spiritual 
death  would  refuse  the  first  were  they  to  risk  his  likeness  to 
God  ;  and  he  would  welcome  the  second  could  they  only 
insure  it.  What  else,  then,  tlian  this  lies  at  the  root  of  such 
eccentricities  as  monkish  asceticism  and  the  dogma  of  pur- 
gatory ?  So  profound  is  the  belief  of  humanity  that  whatever 
else  heaven  and  hell  may  be,  and  wherever  else  they  may 
be  found,  they  are  cognizable  from  time  to  tirfle,  in  strange 
alternation,  in  the  experience  of  the  individual  soul,  as,  on 
the  one  hand,  it  suffers  itself  to  be  degraded,  or,  on  the 
other,  to  be  raised  in  sympathy  with  what  is  noble  and  lov- 
ing. In  the  former  case  it  is  the  victim  of  a  mysterious 
unrest,  in  the  latter  it  permits  that  peace  to  enter  in,  which, 
however  much  it  may  surpass  the  understanding,  comforts 


PATRICK  STEVENSON.]  ETERNAL  LIFE.  329 

and  strengthens  the  spirit  as  naught  else  can,  amid  daily- 
struggle  and  sorroAV,  and  paves  the  way  for  a  quiet  entrance 
into  rest. 

The  chief  points  in  Christ's  teaching  on  the  subject  of 
the  nature  of  Eternal  Life  may  be  more  fully  specified  as 
follows.     He  taught — 

1.  The  nature  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God. 

2.  The  nature  of  spiritual  Sonship. 

3.  The  nature  of  Brotherhood. 

4.  The  nature  of  Sacrifice. 

Not  one  of  these  names  was  new  to  the  world  when 
Christ  appeared.  Yet  He  made  their  meaning  virtually 
new,  so  much  did  He  purify  and  exalt  men's  thoughts  about 
them. 

That  the  infinite  Author  and  Sustainer  of  the  universe 
cares  for  every  creature  of  his  hand  ;  that  man  owes  to  him 
more  than  existence,  and  such  powers  as  are  necessary  for 
its  maintenance  ;  that  his  reason  is  an  offshoot  of  the  Divine 
intelligence,  and  that  his  soul  is  capable  of  understanding 
and  of  appropriating  the  character  of  its  Source  ;  that  this 
heavenly  Father  desires,  working  within  the  laws  of  na- 
ture, mind,  and  spirit,  to  educate  up  to  his  likeness  ;  that 
He  is  tender  to  that  whei'ein  we  err,  and  just  in  all  his 
ways  ;  that  his  nature  is  such  as  to  win  our  trust,  and  his 
leading  such  as  to  reward  our  following  ;  that  whether  He 
giveth,  withholdeth,  or  taketh  away,  it  is  to  our  "  profit," 
that  we  may  be  "partakers  of  his  holiness" — to  know  that 
we  have  such  a  Father  is  life  for  the  soul. 

To  accept  his  daily  gifts  with  joy  and  thankfulness  ;  to 
feel  that  reason  is  trustworthy  in  patient  and  humble  exer- 
cise ;  to  find  our  spirits  rising  to  their  Source,  led  upward 
along  the  lines  of  God's  o^ti  thoughts  ;  to  take  our  daily 
office  from  his  hand,  as  that  which  love  has  given  us  to  do  ; 
to  solve  its  perplexities  by  his  guidance,  to  vanquish  its 
difficulties  by  his  strength,  to  meet  its  seeming  impossibili- 


320  ETERNAL  LIFE.       '  [sermon  xxi. 

ties  in  the  might  of  "  Not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done  "  ;  to 
be  unintoxicated  by  life's  gladness,  and  unconqiiered  by  its 
darkness,  mystery,  and  sorrow ;  and,  finally,  amid  the  fail- 
ing of  all  outward  props  and  stays  to  say,  "Father,  into 
thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit  " — to  experience  such  son- 
ship  is  life  for  the  soul. 

While  feeling,  in  their  full  force,  the  sympathies  that 
are  born  of  natural  relationship,  of  similar  education,  and 
of  circumstance,  to  let  our  affections  travel  out  beyond 
these  smaller  circles  ;  to  love  our  fellow-men  as  men,  as 
children  of  a  common  Father,  and  sharers  of  the  humanity 
which  Christ  has  glorified  ;  on  a  small  or  on  a  large  scale, 
as  power  and  opportunity  are  given,  to  do  good  to  others  ; 
to  allow  for  weakness,  temptation,  and  the  force  of  circum- 
stance in  others  ;  to  be  kind  to  the  evil  and  the  unthank- 
ful ;  to  forgive  those  who  offend  against  us  ;  to  "  love  "  our 
"enemies,"  to  "bless  them  that  curse"  us,  to  "do  good  to 
them  that  hate"  us — this  is  to  understand  the  greatness 
which  consists  in  ministry,  and  therein  to  know  that  broth- 
erhood which,  in  proportion  as  we  feel  and  practice  it,  is 
recognized  as  life  for  the  soul. 

To  have  penetrated  below  the  surface  and  the  type  to 
the  central  reality  of  sacrifice — to  the  truths  that  sin  is  put 
away  by  the  sacrifice  of  self,  and  that  evil  is  overcome  of 
good  ;  to  know  what  it  is  to  find  life  in  losing  it,  and  to 
get  in  giving  away — this  is  to  feel  that  the  Divine  nature, 
in  its  most  glorious  aspect,  is  being  gradually  implanted  in 
us.  Self-denial  is  often  praised  as  the  loftiest  virtue  ;  and 
to  many  the  cross  itself  is  nothing  higher  than  its  fullest 
example.  Noble  it  is,  unquestionably,  "  not  to  please  our- 
selves." But  this  merges  into  moral  commonplace  in  the 
full  liorht  of  the  life  and  death  of  Jesus.  For  him,  not  to 
have  given  would  have  been  self-denial.  It  would  have 
been  worse.  It  would  have  been  denial  of  himself.  Of  all 
that  He  was,  and  all  that  He  was  able  to  do,  and  all  that 


TATRICK  STEVENSON.]  ETERNAL   LIFE.  321 

He  was  able  to  suffer,  He  gave — not  that  He  might  therein 
deny  any  lower  desire,  but  that  He  might  simply  therein 
satisfy  the  craving  of  his  nature.  He  gave,  simply  because 
He  could  not  help  it.  To  his  Father  He  gave  that  inner 
trust  and  following  in  which  sonship  consists.  To  all 
around  him  He  gave  that  many-sided  sympathy,  and  that 
help  in  all  its  manifold  simplicities,  wherein  brotherhood 
consists.  And  before  the  world,  thus  in  living,  and  thus  in 
dying.  He  placed  the  embodiment  of  sacrifice,  and  the  defi- 
nition of  that  state  of  soul  which  is  eternally  a  state  of  Life. 
Be  it  ours  to  seek  to  repeat  the  story.  It  is  as  we  suc- 
ceed in  doing  so  that  we  will  come  to  feel  more  surely  that 
Life  Eternal  is  already  pulsing  within  us,  however  imper- 
fectly ;  and  to  trust  more  deeply  that,  not  for  our  worthi- 
ness, but  of  God's  great  mercy,  that  Life  will  be  imparted 
to  us,  on  and  on  throughout  the  long-drawn  future,  more 
and  more  abundantly. 


322  CEEISrS  AUTHOBITY.  Lseemon  xxu. 


XXII. 
CHEIST'S  AUTHORITY. 

BY   THE   REV.    R.    H.    STORY,  D.  D.,    RCSNEATH. 

"  Tell  us,  by  what  authority  doest  thou  these  things  ?  or  who  is 
he  that  gave  thee  this  authority  ?  " — Luke  xx,  2. 

This  was  a  fair  enough  question  on  the  part  of  the  chief 
priests  and  elders  of  the  people.  They  were  expected  to 
keep  watch  over  what  was  taught,  and  to  inquire  into  the 
character  and  claims  of  any  new  teacher  to  whom  the  people 
seemed  disposed  to  listen.  The  chief  priests,  in  fact,  could, 
if  they  chose,  prevent  any  one  preaching  in  the  Temple,  so 
that  their  question  in  itself  was  natural  and  just  enough. 
They  were  not  stepping  beyond  their  own  province  and  own 
right  in  asking  it.  But  yet,  in  a  very  real  sense,  the  ques- 
tion was  an  unjust  one.  It  was  not  Christ's  part  to  assert 
any  direct  authority  given  to  him  to  teach  the  people  and 
preach  the  gospel.  It  was  their  part  to  judge  of  his  authority 
for  themselves.  It  was  their  part  to  examine  into  what  He 
taught,  in  order  to  see  if  it  had  the  proof  of  its  own  author- 
ity in  itself.  No  authority  given  to  him  by  another  would 
have  made  his  teaching  tolerable,  if  it  was  in  itself  unsound 
and  unedifying.  No  absence  of  external  authority  could 
justify  their  silencing  him,  and  turning  him  out  of  the  Tem- 
ple, if  the  words  which  He  spoke  were  wise  and  true,  if 
they  brought  light  and  help  to  his  hearers.  So  that  in  re- 
ality the  question,  "  By  what  authority  doest  thou  these 
things  ?  or  who  is  he  that  gave  thee  this  authority  ? "  was 


STORY.]  CBBISrS  AUTHORITY.  323 

quite  beside  the  mark.  It  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  point 
whether  Christ  should  be  allowed  to  teach  in  the  Temple  or 
not.  No  authority  could  settle  that  point,  except  the  au- 
thority that  dwelt  in  him,  in  his  words  and  works  them- 
selves. 

Now,  brethren,  this  same  question  is  still — is  always — 
the  question  asked  by  those  whose  religious  life  is  formal 
and  unspiritual,  whenever  they  are  brought  face  to  face 
with  any  new  light  and  truth.     Wherever  you  find  new 
light  and  truth,  there  you  find  the  work  of  Christ  going  on, 
for  you.     From  whatever  quarter  these  come  to  you,  living 
light  and  truth,  in  virtue  of  which  you  feel  your  spirit  live 
more  freely,  you  know  that  from  that  quarter  the  Spirit  of 
God,  which  "bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  is  blowing  upon  you. 
The  light  may  come  to  you  from  a  written  book,  or  a  spoken 
word,  or  from  your  own  thoughts  in  earnest  and  patient 
reflection  on  the  word  or  works  of  God  ;  but,  howsoever  it 
comes,  it  is  to  you  a  revelation  from  God,  an  unveiling  of 
what  before  was  hidden,  the  discovery,  as  it  were,  of  an- 
other letter  in  the  great  name  of  God,  which  only  the  pure 

eye  can  read. 

But  still,  as  in  the  days  of  him  who  "  spake  as  never 
man  spake,"  there  are  those  who,  when  brought  into  con- 
tact with  new  thought,  with  new  teaching,  with  what  pro- 
fesses at  least  to  be   clearer  light  and  wider   truth  than 
men  before  possessed,  rather  than  look  at  the  thing  itself, 
will  demand— "Whence  comes   it?     What  authority  has 
it  ?    Who  gave  it  its  authority  ?  "—will  not  search  into  its 
character  to  see  whether  that  does  or  does  not  bear  the  mark 
of  the  spirit  of  Christ,  but  merely  seek  to  know  whether 
any  opinion  has  been  pronounced  in  its  favor— what  system 
it  acrrees  with,  what  usage  is  on  its  side.     But  that  is  not 
the  point  to  settle.     Any  one  who  believes  in  Christ's  work 
as  a  living  work,  who  believes  that  lie  still  teaches  his  peo- 
ple, and  leads  them  by  his  Spirit  into  clearer  and  clearer 


324  CHRIST'S  A  UTHORITY.  [sermon  xxii. 

light,  is  ready,  from  the  very  fact  of  his  belief,  to  receive 
illumination  whencesoever  it  may  come  ;  and  is  ready  also, 
from  the  very  fact  of  his  belief,  to  apply  to  it  the  test,  not 
"  What  authority  has  it  ?  "  but  "  What  character  has  it  ?  " 
— ^not  "  What  external  claim  has  it  to  be  received  with  re- 
spect ?  "  but  "  What  inner  claim  speaking  from  it  tells  me 
that  it  is  of  Christ,  convinces  me  that  it  comes  from  him  ?  " 
The  external  authority  is  but  the  stamp  upon  the  coin.  The 
stamp  may  be  a  forgery.  The  internal  evidence  is  the  fine 
gold  of  which  the  true  coin  is  made,  and  which,  stamped 
or  unstamped,  is  of  the  same  intrinsic  and  unalterable  value. 

A  man  may  come,  invested  with  all  possible  authority, 
and  he  may  teach  you  what  is  in  part  true  and  in  part  false, 
what  is  in  part  of  Christ,  and  what  is  in  part  of  the  world  ; 
and,  if  you  regard  his  authority  only,  you  will  feel  bound  to 
receive  each  part  alike  and  with  the  same  deference,  while 
perhaps  your  instinctive  discernment  between  truth  and 
falsehood,  between  right  and  wrong,  will  be  perplexed  and 
bewildered  by  finding  the  same  authority  thrusting  on  it 
that  which  it  recognizes  as  true  and  right,  and  that  which 
it  is  impelled  to  acknowledge  to  be  false  and  wrong  ;  and 
so  a  conflict  between  the  rights  of  your  own  judgment  and 
the  claims  of  the  authority  you  have  been  bidden  to  bow 
down  to  arises,  which,  ere  it  is  ended,  may  shake  and  shat- 
ter all  the  foundations  of  your  belief  and  faith. 

And  in  the  same  way — to  take  an  example  from  what 
we  may  have  been  taught  ourselves — when  truths  of  spirit- 
ual meaning  and  matters  of  mere  speculative  interest  are 
mixed  up  together  as  parts  of  one  great  system,  and  you  are 
required  to  receive  the  whole  as  true,  while  the  progress  of 
your  knowledge  tells  you  that  part  is  false,  great  is  the  evil 
that  is  done.  Thus,  for  instance,  when  we  are  bidden  by 
the  same  authority  to  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  died  for  our 
sins,  and  rose  again  the  third  day — most  blessed  and  glori- 
ous belief — and  that  God  made  the  world  in  six  days'  time 


STOKY.]  CIIEISrS  AUTHORITY.  325 

of  twenty-four  hours  each,  which  it  docs  not  concern  our 
religious  life  to  believe  or  to  disbelieve,  and  which  science 
contradicts,  and  Scripture  does  not  assert  ;  the  injury  done 
to  the  earnestly  inquiring  mind,  early  trained  to  accept  a 
truth  upon  authority,  is  often  lasting  in  its  effect,  begetting 
a  spirit  of  almost  angry  doubt  as  to  every  truth  which 
others  commonly  receive.  Through  demanding  that  too 
much  be  believed,  one  may  induce  repugnance  to  fixed  be- 
lief altogether. 

But  no  such  injury  can  be  done,  and  no  destructive  con- 
flict can  arise,  if  you  learn  to  act  on  this  principle,  that  au- 
thority has  no  power  over  you,  except  in  so  far  as  it  has  its 
witness  in  itself  ;  except  in  so  far  as  your  conscience  (after 
earnest  trial)  acknowledges  it  as  just  and  right  and  true  ; 
that  every  thing,  every  truth,  every  teacher,  is  to  be  judged, 
not  by  what  is  external— authority,  or  name,  or  position  ; 
but  by  what  is  internal— by  character.     *'  By  their  fruits  ye 
shall  know  them  "  is  a  universal  rule.     Every  religious  truth 
that  men  can  believe,  every  creed,  however  venerable,  had 
a  moral  and  spiritual  meaning  of  its  own  before  it  had  any 
external  authority.     The  authority  that  encircles  the  most 
ancient  truth  grew  round  it  gradually,  only  because  that 
Divine  character  that  was  in  it  appealed  to  the  consciences 
of  men,  and  was  recognized  by  all ;  and  the  common  belief 
and  reverence  of  all  raised  it  to  its  commanding  place.    But 
it  can  only  maintain  that  place  by  the  same  appeal  continu- 
ino-  to  meet  with  the  same  recognition  ;  not  by  men  being 
constrained  to  do  it  honor  out  of  regard  to  the  external 
authority  that  has  come  to  surround  it.     That  is  worth  no- 
thing if  the  deeper  faith  in  it  dies  out.     Suppose,  for  hi- 
stance,  that  out  of  men's  hearts  and  minds  had  died  all  liv- 
ing belief  in  those  first  words  of  the  Church's  creed,  "  I 
believe  in  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  maker  of  heaven  and 
earth  "—suppose  that,  in  the  course  of  time,  all  faith  in  a 
Divine  Father,  the  "  God  of  our  life,"  the  personal  protec- 


326  CHRISrS  A  UTHORITY.  [sermon  xxu. 

tor  and  friend  of  every  man,  had  vanished  away,  and  men 
had  come  to  believe  in  nothing  but  the  laws  and  forces  of 
"  nature,"  and  had  lost  the  idea  of  a  "  living  God,"  and  of 
a  spiritual  life  nourished  by  a  daily  communion  with  him, 
and  developed  toward  its  highest  perfectness  through  a 
loving  obedience  to  his  will — suppose  all  this  were  gone, 
had  died  out  of  the  common  heart  and  mind,  and  that  still, 
although  all  actual  belief  in  the  words  had  ceased,  the 
Church  kept  repeating  the  ancient  creed  and  authoritatively 
rehearsed  the  letter  of  an  extinct  gospel,  would  her  author- 
ity have  any  power  ?  Would  there  be  in  it  anything  to 
revive  the  departed  spirit,  and  to  breathe  a  Divine  breath 
into  the  hardened  and  contracted  life  of  the  unbelieving  ? 
Never  !  It  would  be  but  a  monument  of  the  dead,  but  the 
cast-off  vesture  of  the  faith  which  it  had  outlived.  Nor 
would  that  faith  ever  be  revived  by  men  having  its  former 
authority  quoted  to  them,  but  by  having  the  burning  flame 
of  the  truth,  round  which  the  authority  had  gathered,  again 
so  made  to  shine  as  to  cause  them  in  its  light  to  "see 
light." 

Every  truth,  every  system,  every  teacher  must  be  judged 
according  to  what  it,  or  what  he,  produces,  and  is — accord- 
ing to  the  fruits,  according  to  the  character.  This  is  the 
judgment  by  which  Christ  wished  to  be  judged.  It  matters 
little  what  a  man  calls  himself — a  "  prophet,"  or  an  "  apos- 
tle," or  a  "  descendant  of  the  apostles  " — the  question  is, 
What  can  he  do  ?  What  can  he  teach  ?  What  is  he  in 
himself  ?  It  matters  little  what  men  say  against  or  for  a 
new  form,  or  a  new  truth,  or  a  new  system  :  that  it  is  not 
Scriptural ;  that  it  is  not  according  to  the  Fathers  of  the 
Church  ;  that  it  is  not  according  to  the  common  custom  ; 
or,  that  it  is  in  accordance  with  Scripture,  and  tradition, 
and  the  usage  and  order  of  the  Universal  Church.  The 
question  is,  "  Is  it  true  ?  Is  it  better  than  what  we  have 
hitherto  believed  or  practiced  ?     Does  it  approve  itself  to 


8T0RY.J 


CHRISrS  AUTHORITY.  327 


our  reason  and  conscience  as  a  tiling  reasonable,  beneficial, 
as  far  as  we  can  see,  according  to  God's  will  ?  "     If  so,  then 
it  is  no  matter  what  custom  or  tradition  is  for  it  or  agamst 
it.     God  has  not  given  us  our  faculties  that  we  should  obey 
custom  and  tradition,  but  that,  in  the  growing  light  and 
liberty  of  our  knowledge  and  faith,  we  should  serve  hun  and 
learn  the  most  we  can  of  his  truth,  and  do  the  best  we  can 
for  his  service  ;  not  with  a  grudging  terror  at  every  step  of 
going  wrong,  but  with  a  large  and  liberal  trust  in  his  father- 
ly guidance  of  us,  as  long  as  our  hearts  are  right  with  him. 
We  are  not,  of  course,  to  run  off  with  the  notion,  which 
is  very  acceptable  to  those  who  in  all  ages  (as  at  the  first) 
can  not,  or  will  not,  distinguish  between  Christian  liberty 
and  mere  lawlessness  or  license,  that  no  regard  whatsoever 
is  due  to  authority— to  the  authority  of  a  church,  for  in- 
stance, or  of  a  great  system  of  truth,  such  as  a  church's 
creed  or  confession.     What  we  have  to  remember  is,  that 
we  must  never  let  authority  override  our  own  judgment 
and  conscience,  or  lead  us  to  evade  the  responsibility  of 
proving  all  things,  to  the  end  that  we  may  "hold  fast" 
that  only  which  is  good.     But,  at  the  same  time,  we  must 
remember  that  authority  almost  always  demands  respect, 
because  almost  always  representing   a  certain  Aveight  of 
right  and  truth  ;  because  representing  what  the  common 
judgment  and  conscience  of  many  men  (probably  in  divers 
ways  wiser  and  better  than  ourselves)  has  decided  to  be 
worthy  of  acceptance.     And  just  as  a  strict  rule  is  neces- 
sary for  the  child  at  school,  and  he  must  be  controlled  by 
another  when  is  too  young  to  control  or  govern  himself,  to 
the  end  that  he  may  learn  self-control  and  self-government 
as  he  grows  up,  so  God  often  uses  authority  as  a  useful 
and  necessary  teacher  and  trainer  for  his  children  ;  but  ever 
for  the  like  end,  not  that  they  should  always  be  bound  by 
it,  but,  led  by  it  till  their  steps  are  firm,  should  then  be 
able  to  walk  alone  ;  ruled  by  it  in  their  years  of  ignorance, 


328  CHIilSrS  A  UTHOBITY.  [sebmon  xxii, 

should,  when  theii'  faculties  are  riper,  be  able  to  judge  con- 
scientiously for  themselves  ;  should  be  able,  when  they 
have  reached  the  full  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  to  sep- 
arate between  the  two,  to  "  discern "  the  spirits  of  good 
and  of  evil. 

Now,  brethren,  such  a  point  as  this  which  is  suggested 
by  my  text  may  perhaps  appear  to  be  suitable  enough  for 
a  theological  discussion,  but  to  lie  a  good  way  apart  from 
the  domain  of  our  ordinary  life  and  its  concerns.  We  do 
not  need,  you  may  think,  to  occuj^y  ourselves  with  these 
matters  at  all.  We  may  leave  them  to  wiser  people,  and 
believe  what  we  are  taught  to  believe,  and  what  our  fathers 
believed  before  us,  and  no  harm  is  done.  But  the  fact  is, 
that,  whatever  we  believe  or  whatever  we  are  taught,  gi-eat 
harm — it  may  be  lasting  and  immeasurable  harm — is  done 
to  our  spiritual  life,  if  we  have  no  clear  idea  as  to  our  own 
duty  and  responsibility  in  regai'd  to  all  that  we  are  taught 
or  called  on  to  believe,  or  that  appeals  to  our  judgment 
and  our  conscience,  and  asks  us  to  decide  upon  its  claim  to 
be  received.  You  can  not  evade  that  claim,  and  live  a 
healthful  and  growing  life.  You  can  not  let  light  and 
truth  pass  you  by,  without  any  effort  to  see  for  yourself 
what  they  are  ;  or  accept  just  so  much  as  others  accept,  and 
as  you  are  told  is  safe  and  right ;  or  content  yourself  with 
asking  the  chief  Priest's  question,  and  taking  what  answer 
you  can  get,  and  yet  hope  to  be  spiritually  nourished  and 
to  grow  in  grace  or  knowledge  afterward.  For  religious 
truth  or  knowledge  is  not  one  set  lesson,  or  one  measured 
quantity,  which  you  can  receive  and  lay  by,  as  you  might 
lay  by  a  store  of  provisions  for  the  winter's  use.  It  is 
rather  like  that  "  spiritual  rock "  which  St.  Paul  tells  us 
followed  the  Israelites  in  the  desert,  and  of  which  each 
drank  as  he  thirsted.  It  is  the  fullness  of  a  deep  fountain, 
from  which  we  must  draw  according  to  our  need  and  our 
capacity  ;  and,  unless  we  are  drawing  from  it  day  by  day, 


STORY.]  CHEISrS  AUTHOBITY.  329 

every  seed  of  Divine  life  must  wither  and  die  within  us. 
It  is  the  exuberant  crop  of  a  rich  field  bringing  forth  herbs 
and  fruits  of  which,  as  we  go  on  our  way,  we  must  gather ; 
taking  due  heed  that  what  we  gather  is  good  fruit  and 
wholesome  herb ;  learning  to  discern  between  that  which 
would  nourish  and  that  which  would  poison,  between  that 
which  our  experience  teaches  us  would  quicken  and  strength- 
en the  spirit's  life  and  that. which  would  weaken  and  cor- 
rupt it. 

And  it  is  to  this  knowledge,  to  this  discernment,  breth- 
ren, that  the  Spirit  of  God  leads  us. 

When  Christ  was  about  to  go  away  from  his  disciples. 
He  explained  to  them  that  though  He  went  He  did  not 
leave  them  alone,  for  his  Spirit  would  come  to  them  and 
abide  with  them.  He  called  that  Spirit  emphatically  "  the 
Spirit  of  truth."  He  said  He  would  guide  them  "  into  all 
truth."  They  could  no  more  hear  their  Master's  word, 
behold  his  works,  lean  upon  his  authority,  rejoice  in  his 
presence.  They,  like  all  who  would  follow  him  and  press 
toward  the  mark  of  the  heavenly  prize,  must  do  so  alone, 
by  themselves,  bearing  their  own  burden,  fighting  their  own 
fight  ;  and  yet  not  alone,  because  this  Sj^irit  should  be  with 
them,  teaching  them  all  things,  bringing  to  their  remem- 
brance all  the  words  of  Christ,  throwing  upon  all  their 
future  life  the  light  of  his  teaching,  the  illumination  of  the 
truth  that  they  had  learned  from  him  ;  and  so  suffering  not 
that  truth  to  remain,  as  it  were,  dead  and  unfruitful  in  their 
hearts,  but  ever  adding  to  it  more  and  more,  filling  them 
"  with  all  the  fullness  of  God."  And  as  for  them,  so  for 
us.  We  too  have  this  promise  of  the  Spirit ;  we  live  under 
his  dispensation.  His  work  in  us  and  for  us,  as  for  them, 
is  to  lead  us  "into  all  truth"  ;  to  help  us  to  seek  it  and  to 
find  it,  to  discern  between  it  and  falsehood,  between  the 
mere  doctrine  of  man  and  the  revelation  of  God  to  our 
souls,  between  the  wisdom  of  the  flesh,  which  is  as  grass 


330  CHEISrS  AUTHORITY.  [sermon  xxii. 

that  withers  and  whose  flower  fades,  and  the  w^ord  of  the 
Lord,  which  "liveth  and  abideth  for  ever."  That  Spirit, 
brethren,  is  our  great  authority  ;  nothing  else  is  ;  He  only 
leads  us  to  the  truth,  and,  witnessing  with  our  spirits,  helps 
us  to  discern  it. 

He  who,  in  the  faith  of  a  Divine  enlightenment,  of  a 
spiritual  guidance,  earnestly  seeks  to  know  all  that  God 
would  teach  him,  is  never  disappointed.  The  light  of  the 
inward  witness  does  not  fail.  The  promise  of  what  the 
"  Spirit  of  truth  "  will  do  holds  good.  Not  more  sure  is 
the  promise  that,  in  the  outer  world,  day  and  night,  seed- 
time and  harvest,  summer  and  winter,  shall  not  cease,  than 
that,  in  the  world  within,  the  patient,  humble,  earnest  spirit 
shall  find  an  ever  clearer  light  encircling  it,  an  ever  higher 
knowledge  filling  it  with  strength  and  peace. 

What  then,  brethren,  in  view  of  this,  should  be  our 
position,  what  the  character  of  our  search  after  truth  ?  It 
should  not  be,  as  is  too  common,  a  restless  gadding  to  and 
fro  after  every  new  thing.  It  should  not  be  a  hasty  dip- 
ping into  every  new  subject,  and  running  to  look  at  every 
new  speculation.  There  are  many  subjects,  and  many  ways 
of  teaching  and  trjdng  to  influence  men,  from  which  a  jsure 
and  candid  mind  will  feel  itself  at  once  repelled,  its  own 
moral  instinct  telling  it  that  it  will  get  no  good  from  them. 
It  is  not  necessary,  in  order  to  find  truth,  that  you  should 
search  for  it  wherever  the  world  may  tell  you,  or  the  ex- 
ample of  others  may  suggest.  It  is  needful  rather  to  seek 
where  the  Spirit  seems  to  lead.  It  will  always  guide  you 
rightly  ;  it  will  discover  with  a  finer  tact  than  yours  where 
truth  lies — whei'e  it  lies  even  amid  error  and  shining  out  of 
darkness. 

There  is  a  reality,  brethren,  in  that  spiritual  guidance. 
Those  that  say  they  know  it  not  do  not  prove  that  it  does 
not  exist ;  they  only  prove  that  they  possess  it  not,  because 
they  have  not  sought  it  with  a  pure  heart  and  earnest  mind. 


STORY.]  CIIRISrS  AUTIIOrdTY.  331 

And  our  life,  in  its  relation  to  God's  truth,  should  be  a 
daily  seeking  to  be  led  by  that  Spirit  into  wider  and  clearer 
knowledge  ;  just  as  our  life,  in  its  relation  to  our  brethren, 
should  be  a  daily  seeking  to  be  filled  more  and  more,  by 
that  same  Spirit,  with  that  peaceful,  and  kindly,  and  win- 
ning charity  which  is  the  "bond  of  perfectncss"  and  the 
"  fulfilling  of  the  law." 

And  as  we  seek  that  guidance  and  strive  to  follow  it, 
"  calling  no  man  master  on  earth,"  not  suffering  any  one  to 
step  in  between  us  and  the  Father  of  our  spirits  to  usurp 
his  authority  or  to  intercept  his  light,  we  may  perhaps  find 
that  we  shall  be  led  onward  whither  we  did  not  at  first  ex- 
pect ;  we  may  come  to  see  that  many  of  those  things,  which 
we  before  believed,  were  wrong  ;  that  many  were  but  par- 
tial truths  apprehended  "  in  part  "  or  seen  "  through  a  glass 
darkly  "  ;  that  much  that  Ave  had  thought  was  intended  to 
be  permanent  must  be  suffered  to  pass  away,  and  give  place 
to  what  is  better  and  truer  and  more  enduring.  We  may 
find  ourselves  led  gradually  into  new  paths,  until  we  almost 
lose  sight  of  the  old  way  and  of  the  "  ancient  landmarks." 
But,  however  far  we  may  be  led  from  them,  we  shall  be  led 
only  nearer  God  ;  our  steps,  if  we  follow  that  guidance, 
shall  not  stumble  ;  and  though,  for  a  time,  we  may  have  to 
tread  the  lonely  wilderness,  we  yet  shall  see  the  Promised 
Land,  and  shall  stand  within  the  gates  of  the  city  which 
can  not  be  shaken,  whose  everlasting  foundations  God  has 
laid. 

It  is  only  thus,  brethren,  that  our  faith  can  become  to 
us  a  reality,  a  source  of  joy  and  strength.  The  life  that 
has  not  faith,  large  trust  in  God,  is  barren  and  weak. 
Where  there  is  no  knowledge,  there  can  be  no  faith.  To 
trust  God,  you  must  know  him.  To  know  him,  yoii  must 
not  be  content  to  take  for  granted  what  you  may  be  told 
about  him  ;  you  must  try  to  learn  what  He  is  from  himself, 
to  learn  more  and  more  of  his  will,  of  his  character,  of  his 


332  CHRIST'S  AUTIIOEITY.  [sermon  xxu. 

goodness,  of  his  love.  And  this  knowledge  comes  not  at 
second-hand  :  they  who  would  gain  it  must  seek  it  for  them- 
selves. 

Remember  how,  in  the  Book  of  the  Acts,  the  Jews  at 
Berea  are  commended,  and  get  an  honorable  name,  because 
hearing  the  preaching  of  the  aj)ostles  they  would  not  blind- 
ly accept  what  they  told  them,  but  searched  the  Scriptures 
daily,  to  find  whether  what  they  taught  them  agreed  with 
those  Scriptures,  which  were  the  highest  revelation  of  God's 
truth  which  they  knew,  or  could  refer  to.  The  same  is  our 
duty  :  to  test  all  truth  by  the  standard  of  the  clearest  light 
which  God  has  given  us  ;  and  to  hold  fast  that  to  which 
his  Spirit  seems  to  witness.  We  may  not  think  much  of 
this  duty.  Almost  any  other  may  appear  more  important 
in  our  eyes.  We  may  go  through  our  life  and  its  routine 
of  religious  forms  without  a  thought  of  this.  But,  if  so, 
what  becomes  of  our  spirit's  life,  that  life  which  the  word 
of  God,  the  truth  of  God,  alone  can  nourish  ?  Our  outward 
life  may  prosper  ;  even  our  intelligence  as  to  worldly  knowl- 
edge and  affairs  may  grow  and  ripen,  but  our  "  spiritual 
understanding  "  remains  at  the  childish  stage.  We  do  not 
and  can  not  attain  to  "  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  perfect 
men  in  Christ," 

Snares  and  temptations,  in  the  region  of  our  Christian 
knowledge  and  belief,  come  to  us,  brethren,  in  very  differ- 
ent forms,  according  to  our  different  positions  and  capacities; 
but  in  no  more  common  and  frequent  form  than  this  which 
the  question  of  the  text  specially  suggests  to  us  :  to  be  lazi- 
ly or  self -righteously  content  with  what  we  and  our  fathers 
have  known  and  have  attained  to,  counting  ourselves  as 
though  we  had  already  attained  and  were  already  perfect, 
elevating  our  own  judgment  to  a  place  of  supreme  authori- 
ty, and  challenging  the  world  of  truth  to  produce  a  higher  ; 
and,  instead  of  humbly  and  thankfully  recognizing  the 
presence  of  God's  Spirit  in  his  Church,  ever  teaching  us 


STORY.J 


CHRISrS  AUTHORITY.  333 


more  and  leading  us  onward  and  upward  if  only  we  will 
move,  practically  denying  his  working  and  setting  up  some 
limit  of  our  own,  standing  by  which  we  say  to  the  advanc- 
ing wave  of  Divine  light,  "  Hitherto  hast  thou  come,  but 

no  further." 

Let  us  beware  of  this  spirit,  made  up  of  selfish  indiffer- 
ence and  dull  self-righteousness  ;  and,  acknowledging  how 
little  we  know,  believing  how  much  there  is  to  learn,  desir- 
ing to  be  led  into  all  truth  that  we  may  not  only  "  know 
him  that  is  true,"  but  may  abide  in  him,  let  our  language 
to  our  Father  ever  be  that  of  his  servant  of  old  :  "Lead  me 
in  thy  truth,  and  teach  me  :  for  Thou  art  the  God  of  my 
salvation  ;  on  Thee  do  I  wait  all  the  day." 

And  now  to  God  the  Father  Almighty,  with  the  Son  and 
the  Holy  Ghost,  be  all  glory  in  the  Church,  world  without 
end !     Amen, 


334  CHRISTIAN  RIGHTEOUSNESS.         [sermon  xxm. 


XXIII. 

CHEISTIAK  KIGHTEOUSNESS. 

BY    THE    RET.    R.    H.    STORY,    D.  D.,    ROSNEATH, 

*'  What  shall  we  say  then  ?  That  the  Gentiles,  which  followed  not  after 
righteousness,  have  attained  to  righteousness,  even  the  righteousness  which 
is  of  faith." — Romans  ix,  30. 

What  is  that  "  righteousness "  of  which  we  read  so 
much  in  the  Bible,  and  yet  possibly  know  so  little  ?  Have 
we  any  clear  idea  of  what  we  mean  when  we  speak  of  it,  and 
in  speaking  perhaps  condemn,  as  we  have  been  taught  to 
do,  our  own  righteousness,  and  exalt  that  of  Christ  ?  Very 
probably  we  have  not ;  but  here,  as  in  relation  to  many 
other  points,  use  religious  language  without  clear  under- 
standing of  the  fact  that  it  either  expresses  or  conceals  (for 
language  must  do  one  or  the  other).  If  you  use  it  know- 
ingly, it  helps  others  to  know  what  you  know.  If  you  use 
it  not  understanding  its  meaning,  it  but  helps  to  deepen  the 
ignorance  of  yourself  and  others  as  to  what  is  really  meant. 

Now,  as  to  this  and  other  words  in  the  Bible  which  are 
used  both  in  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament,  it  is  well  to 
try  and  see  first  of  all  what  those  who  employed  the  word 
earliest  meant  by  it — the  Jews  of  the  Old  Testament ;  and 
their  idea  of  what  they  called  "  righteousness "  seems  to 
have  been  the  fulfilling  of  the  Commandments.  He  who 
kept  these — who  walked  in  all  the  precej^ts  of  the  Lord 
blameless,  such  as  Daniel  in  the  Old  Testament,  or  Na- 
thaniel in  the  New — was  righteous,  according  to  the  Jewish 


STORY.]  CHRISTIAN  BIGHTEOUSNESS.  335 

idea.  It  was  a  very  comprehensive  idea — comprehensive 
rather  than  deej).  It  included  a  great  deal.  It  included 
not  only  all  moral  conduct,  but  even  matters  of  religious 
observance  and  ceremonial — small  details,  such  as  tithinsr 
the  smallest  herbs  and  not  eating  with  unwashen  hands,  as 
well  as  the  greatest  duties,  abstaining  from  idolatry  and 
theft,  and  false  witness  and  murder.  It  was  a  wide  and 
comprehensive  idea  of  what  righteousness  should  be.  But 
it  was  not  so  deep  as  it  was  wide — at  least  it  was  not  so 
as  people  generally  held  it.  For  most  men  of  any  delicacy 
of  conscience  have  a  stronger  instinct  than  that  merely  of 
doing  the  thing  which  is  right,  and  preserving  a  fair  out- 
ward conduct.  There  is  in  them  the  instinct  or  desire  not 
only  of  moral  rectitude,  but  of  spiritual  perfectness.  There 
is  a  voice  which,  when  every  visible  obligation  has  been 
carefully  discharged,  calls  out  within,  "All  these  can  not—  it--: 
make  the  doers  thereof  perfect."  When  every  external  -^ '  '^' 
obligation  has  been  fulfilled,  the  internal  begins.  Action  is 
not  enough.  Thought  and  intention  and  desire  and  will 
must  be  ruled  too ;  and,  in  as  far  as  the  Jewish  idea  of 
righteousness  did  not  realize  this,  it  was,  though  wide 
enough,  not  deep  enough.  It  did  not  realize  that  the  law 
must  not  rest  in  being  a  written  commandment,  but  must 
become  a  living  spirit,  a  fountain  of  moral  life  and  strength 
within.  Now,  as  the  Jewish  idea  of  righteousness  fell 
short  of  this,  so  does  the  Christian  idea  of  it — the  idea 
which  we  gather  from  the  New  Testament,  and  specially 
from  St.  Paul — seem  even  to  go,  to  a  certain  extent,  be- 
yond this.  To  St.  Paul,  in  the  light  of  Divine  righteous- 
ness, the  law  did  not  so  much  seem  to  be  transfigured, 
"  magnified  and  made  honorable,"  as  to  be  actually  absorbed 
and  lost  sight  of.  What  he  felt  God  required  of  men  was 
not  a  legal  obedience.  It  was  a  "  new  creature  " — a  new 
creation.  It  was  a  return  to  God  and  to  the  pure  nature 
God  had  given,  to  that  state  in  which  law,  by  which  "  is  the 


336  CHRISTIAN  BIGHTEOUSN'ESS.         [sermon  xxiii. 

knowledge  of  sin,"  should  not  be  needed.  The  kind  of 
thing,  of  which  St.  Paul  thought  when  he  spoke  of  right- 
eousness, was  not  so  much  a  pure  outward  conduct  springing 
from  a  pure  and  dutiful  respect  to  the  law  in  the  heart,  and 
a  careful  obedience  to  every  whisper  of  conscience  there,  as 
a  spirit  which  raised  him  who  possessed  it  above  the  burden 
of  ordinances  and  the  sense  of  an  effort  to  learn  and  to  ful- 
fill a  prescribed  commandment,  and  brought  him  into  living 
and  personal  communion  with  his  God.  It  was  a  righteous- 
ness not  of  law  but  of  faith — a  righteousness  which  ex- 
pressed in  the  earthly  the  principles  and  spirit  of  the 
heavenly  or  Divine  life  ;  as  different  from  the  legal  right- 
eousness which  attended  to  outward  detail,  or  which  thought 
its  best  aim  was  to  have  the  law  so  written  on  the  heart  as 
to  be  unable  to  miss  one  of  its  requirements  or  break  one  of 
its  rules,  as  the  free  and  expressive  language  of  a  native  of 
a  country  is  different  from  the  formal  attempt  of  a  foreigner 
to  speak  the  tongue  correctly.  The  foreigner  may  learn 
the  language.  He  may  know  every  rule  of  its  grammar 
and  be  at  home  in  its  idioms,  and  through  his  knowledge, 
painfully  acquired,  come  at  last  to  speak,  as  we  say,  "  like 
a  native  "  ;  but  the  highest  praise  that  you  can  give  him, 
after  all,  is  that  he  does  it  like  the  other — that  through 
laborious  practice  he  does  what  the  other  does  better  natu- 
rally ;  and  even  then  the  easy  phrase,  the  perfect  idiom,  the 
homely  familiarity  with  the  power  of  the  language,  which 
mark  the  native's  speech,  seldom  if  ever  grace  his.  So  is 
the  righteousness,  which  cherishes  the  idea  of  a  fulfilled 
law  as  its  highest,  compared  w^ith  that  which  rises,  like  its 
proper  flower  and  fruit,  out  of  the  new  creature — the  new 
sjiirit,  which  is  at  home  with  God  and  delighting  itself  in  him. 
Now,  it  is  this  higher,  deeper,  inward  righteousness 
which  St.  Paul  thinks  of  when  he  speaks  of  "  the  righteous- 
ness of  faith."  It  is  righteousness  of  character,  which  is 
deeper  and  greater  than  any  righteousness  of  conduct. 


STORY.]  CHRISTIAN  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  337 

Now,  what  is  the  special  connection  between  this  right- 
eousness and  faith  ?  Why  does  St.  Paul  call  it,  as  he  docs 
here,  the  "  righteousness  of  faith  "  ? 

Because  he  felt  that  the  true  root  of  this  righteousness 
was  Christ ;  and  faith,  he  felt  also,  was  that  which  takes  us 
out  of  ourselves  and  joins  us  to  Christ,  so  that,  as  living 
branches  springing  from  the  vine,  we  may  bear  much  fruit. 
The  power  of  laying  hold  of  Christ  is  the  root  of  the  deeper 
righteousness.  St.  Paul  felt  that  it  had  been  so  in  his  own 
case.  The  vision  he  had  seen,  the  voice  he  had  heard  on 
his  road  to  Damascus,  had  opened  his  eyes  and  ears  to  that 
world  unseen,  which  till  then  he  had  not  realized — had  re- 
vealed to  him  One  who  watched  his  way,  who  was  wounded 
by  his  hostility,  who  was  striving  to  lead  and  influence  him 
in  spite  of  all  his  self-confidence  and  self-will,  whose  plan 
for  his  future  life  was  something  quite  different  from  his 
own.  It  was  through  this  revelation,  he  felt,  that  God  had 
led  him  to  a  deeper  righteousness.  It  was  the  faith  that  it 
teas  God  who  had  so  led  him  that  was  the  root  and  strength 
of  his  new  and  better  life.  The  way  by  which  God  had  led 
him  he  felt  sure  was,  in  reality,  none  other  than  the  way  by 
which  He  was  leading,  and  would  lead,  all  men.  So  that 
when  he  preached  the  necessity  of  a  deeper  than  legal  right- 
eousness, and  called  it  "  the  righteousness  of  faith,"  his  con- 
science bore  him  Avitness  that  it  was  through  this  faith  ho 
had  himself  passed  from  darkness  to  light,  from  the  burden 
of  law  and  ordinance  to  the  power  and  freedom  of  an  end- 
less life,  by  which  same  way  he  felt  assured  all  men  must 
pass. 

The  deeper  righteousness,  then,  as  it  appears  to  St.  Paul, 
we  may  say,  comprehensively,  is  the  Christian  Life.  The 
root  of  it  is  Christ,  and  it  is  called  the  "  righteousness  of 
faith''''  because  by  faith  we  lay  hold  of  him. 

This  is  a  simple  matter  if  you  look  at  it  candidly.  But 
it  has  been  much  confused  by  too  great  a  mixture  of  human 

15 


338  OHIUSTIAN  EIGHTEOUSNESS.         [sermon  xxiii. 

dogma  and  definition  with  the  simplicity  of  the  truth.  A 
man,  -we  shall  say,  is  living  a  life  of  self-will  and  self -refer- 
ence, recognizing  either  his  own  will  as  his  only  rule,  or, 
like  St.  Paul  before  he  reached  Damascus,  setting  before 
him  a  certain  formal  standard  of  duty,  and  trying  to  come 
up  to  that ;  but  with  no  sense  of  spiritual  want  about  him, 
sufficient  to  himself.  Suddenly,  or  gradually,  it  comes  to 
him  that  this  is  not  enough,  that  his  life  is  not  what  it  should 
be  and  might  be,  that  in  its  regions  of  highest  hope  and  in- 
terest it  is  barren,  that,  spiritually,  it  is  wellnigh  dead.  He 
looks  about  for  help  and  finds  none.  He  tries  to  rest  in 
himself,  and  in  his  worldly  life  and  work,  and  can  not  rest. 
At  last,  through  the  trouble  of  his  own  spirit,  or  the  light 
of  God's  Spirit  witnessing  with  his,  or  through  the  word  of 
truth,  he  is  brought  to  think  of  Christ,  and  he  turns  eagerly 
to  him.  His  old  life  falls  away  from  him  like  a  worn-out 
garment  of  which  he  is  ashamed,  as  he  sees  more  and  more 
clearly  the  character  of  the  life  Christ  Avould  have  him  and 
help  him  to  live,  as  he  compares  himself  with  him,  as  he 
realizes  Christ's  desire  to  work  out  in  him  a  life  of  a  nobler 
and  purer  type.  His  own  righteousness,  his  own  standard, 
such  as  it  was,  had  been  enough  for  him  before.  Now  it  is 
as  "  filthy  rags,"  never  to  be  looked  at  or  thought  of  more. 
Christ's  righteousness,  Christ's  standard,  which  rises  in  its 
clear  beauty  before  the  eye  of  his  faith,  shines  upon  him 
with  such  brightness  that  he  can  not  bear  to  look  back  upon 
his  former  self. 

This  is  a  natural  experience,  is  it  not  ?  A  plain  and 
simple  road  by  which  to  ti-avel  from  the  worldly  to  the 
heavenly  region,  from  the  life  of  the  world  to  the  life  of 
Christ,  from  the  righteousness  of  self  or  of  law  to  the  right- 
eousness of  faith. 

But,  to  suit  their  systems,  men  have  changed  all  this  ; 
and,  in  regard  to  man's  righteousness  and  Christ's,  have 
tauaht  much  that  it  is  hard  to  reconcile  with  Christian 


STORY. J  CEEISTIAN  EIGIITEOUSNESS.  339 

truth,  or  even  with  what  is  morally  right  and  true.  They 
have  taught,  for  instance,  that  all  a  man's  own  works,  which 
are  not  done  through  faith  in  Christ,  are  necessarily  evil — 
that  even  "  the  good  works  "  of  the  "  unregenerate  "  are  bad 
works  ;  as  if  any  work  could  be  a  good  work  which  was  not 
done  with  a  good  intention,  and  with  that  unselfish  regard 
to  higher  than  merely  worldly  or  selfish  interests,  which  is 
called  in  the  Bible  "  faith,"  whether  the  direct  object  of  that 
faith  be  Christ,  in  the  full  knowledge  of  him  and  of  God,  or 
not :  or  as  if  any  work  done  with  that  intention,  done  with 
a  pure  motive,  with  the  honest  conviction,  "  This  world  is 
not  all,  and  I  shall  not  act  as  though  it  and  its  interests  were 
supreme  ;  this  self  is  not  the  first  object  in  the  universe,  and 
I  shall  not  act  as  though  it  were,"  could  be  evil  and  dis- 
pleasing in  the  sight  of  God  the  Father.  And  having  taught 
this  a])out  the  good  works  of  the  unregenerate  or  non-elect, 
they  then  teach  that  nothing  that  a  man  who  is  regenerate 
can  do  is  of  any  value  in  God's  sight,  and  that  all  that  the 
best  of  men  can  effect  is  to  clothe  themselves,  as  it  is  called, 
with  the  righteousness  of  Christ ;  as  though  there  were  in 
him  a  vast  magazine  or  deposit  of  righteousness,  from  which 
we  might  draw  what  would  cover  our  own  nakedness  or 
rags.  All  which  is  unhealthy  teaching — false  in  form  if  not 
in  substance.  The  righteousness  of  Christ  is  not  a  great 
fund,  so  to  speak,  out  of  which  sums  may  ever  and  anon  be 
taken  and  "  im})uted  "  to  his  people.  It  is  the  pure  and  per- 
fect character  and  life  which  we  by  knowledge  of  him  see, 
which  we  by  faith  in  him  set  before  us  as  our  only  aim,  as 
our  only  example,  as  our  only  stimulus  and  help  to  over- 
come self  and  the  devil  and  the  world  :  and  that  righteous- 
ness, imperfect  in  its  measure,  yet  in  kind  like  his,  inspired 
by  his  Spirit,  upheld  by  his  example,  which  we  are  able  to 
show  forth,  is,  in  the  sight  of  God  who  sent  him  forth,  that 
believing  we  might  have  life  through  his  name,  of  great, 
even  of  inestimable  price  ;  for  it  is  not  our  own  but  the 


340  CHRISTIAN  RIGHTEOUSNESS.         [sekmon  xxiii. 

righteousness  of  Christ  living  in  us,  not  a  righteousness  out- 
side of  us  and  put  upon  us  as  a  cloak  to  hide  our  sins  from 
God,  not  "  imputed  "  to  us  as  ours  when  it  is  really  anoth- 
er's, but  the  fresh  and  healthy  outcome  of  our  own  heart  and 
conscience  and  energy,  quickened,  transfigured,  sanctified, 
by  the  indwelling  spirit  of  the  "  Lord  our  Righteousness." 
Now,  it  is  of  great  importance  that  we  should  think 
rightly  of  this  matter.    I  think  any  one  with  a  healthy  con- 
science must  see  that,  as  Scripture  tells  us,  only  that  which 
is  righteous,  right,  true,  honest,  is  acceptable  in  the  sight 
of  God  ;  that  only  those  who  are  righteous  can  stand  be- 
fore him.     To  deny  this  is  to  overthrow  all  ideas  of  right- 
eousness and  truth,  and  to  obscure  all  lines  dividing  risrht 
from  wrong.     And  those  who  can  so  stand  before  God  must 
be  able  to  do  so  in  virtue  of  that  which  is  in  themselves, 
not  of  something  which  is  not  in  them  but  is  "  imputed''''  to 
them  ;  in  virtue  of  Christ's  righteousness  shared  by  them 
and  growing   within   them,   not  of  Christ's  righteousness 
reckoned  as  belonging  to  them,  by  a  mere  exercise  of  God's 
will  and  pleasure.     In  the  last  resort,  in  the  court  of  high- 
est appeal,  at  the  very  throne  of  God,  that  which  we  wish  to 
find  is  a  perfect  reality  of  dealing  ;  no  fiction,  no  assump- 
tion of  fact  where  there  is  no  fact ;  no  imputation  of  char- 
acter where  there  is  no  character.     What  we  wish  to  be 
assured  of  there  is,  that  God  will  deal  with  us  as  we  are  in 
ourselves  ;  that  if  there  is  evil  in  us  He  will  not  cloak  it 
and  so  leave  it  in  us,  but  will  spare  no  pains  to  work  it  out 
of  us  and  take  it  away  ;  that  He  will  not,  because  He  has 
made  a  decree  in  our  favor,  take  Christ's  righteousness  and 
clothe  us  with  it,  and  say,  "  Now  you  are  in  him,  you  are 
sanctified,  you  are  justified"  ;  but  that  He  will,  because  He 
loves  us,  try  to  bring  out  in  us  the  character  and  image  of 
the  Son  of  his  love,  so  that  of  us  as  of  him  He  may  be  able 
to  say,  "  These  are  my  beloved  sons,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased." 


8TORY.J  CUniSTIAN  EIGBTEOUSNEiSS.  341 

And  desiring  this  perfect  reality  and  truth  in  God's 
dealings  with  me,  I  can  not  be  satisfied  with  any  doctrine 
of  "  imputation,"  or  any  talk  about  being  "  clothed  with 
Christ's  righteousness,"  and,  as  it  were,  under  cover  of  this 
passed  into  the  secret  place  of  God's  favor.  What  I  want, 
if  I  am  honest  in  the  matter,  is  not  to  be  accounted  as  right- 
eous, but  to  be  made  righteous  ;  not  to  be  called  righteous, 
but  to  he  righteous.  Why,  in  the  region  of  my  eternal  in- 
terests, should  that  satisfy  me  which  never  could  in  the 
lower  region  of  my  temporal  interests.  If  I  am  wrongfully 
accused  and  brought  to  the  bar  of  the  law,  I  do  not  wish 
to  get  off  with  a  verdict  of  "  Not  proven."  I  wish  to  be 
discharged  on  full  evidence  that  I  am  not  guilty.  Or  if  I 
am  guilty,  and  have  any  real  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  am 
touched  with  any  true  sorrow  for  it,  I  am  willing  to  suffer 
whatever  be  the  just  and  proper  punishment.  It  is  only 
the  dishonest  and  impenitent  law-breaker  who  would  wish 
to  escape  because  he  has  friends  in  the  jury,  or  trusts  to 
some  one  who  will  win  over  the  judge.  So,  in  the  same 
way,  if  I  am  honest  in  my  desire  to  live  the  life  of  Christ, 
it  is  nothing  to  me  to  be  told  his  righteousness  shall  be  im- 
puted to  me.  Nay,  were  it  so  imputed,  it  would  be  a  hin- 
drance in  my  way.  I  should  be  inclined  to  say  :  "  Do  not 
reckon  that  mine  which  is  not  mine.  Do  not  call  me  right- 
eous who  am  still  unrighteous.  Do  not  tempt  me  to  think 
I  have  learned,  or  done,  or  suffered  enough.  I  would  '  go 
on  unto  perfection.'  I  would  know  Christ,  and  know  no- 
thing of  his  righteousness  except  as  I  see  it  in  him,  and  try 
day  by  day  to  work  it  out  in  my  own  self  till  He  is  formed 
in  me — the  hope  of  glory." 

"  After  all,  then,"  some  will  probably  be  inclined  to 
say,  "  you  are  trusting  to  your  own  righteousness.  You 
are  resting  on  yourself.  It  is  yourself  you  trust  to  in  the 
end." 

Now,  here  we  are  very  apt  to  confuse  points  that  should 


342  CHRISTIAN  BIGIITEOUSNESS.         [seemon  xxiii. 

be  kept  separate.  All  my  confidence  for  anything  beyond 
what  I  see  and  handle,  for  any  spiritual  truth,  for  any  hope 
of  the  future,  is  and  must  be  in  God,  and  in  God  as  Christ 
revealed  him.  It  is  because  I  believe  God  to  be  the  God 
whom  Christ  revealed,  that  I  have  any  hope  or  trust  in 
him.  My  only  foothold  for  the  future  is  on  my  conscious- 
ness of  his  fatherly  character  and  relation  to  me.  And  this 
consciousness  is  so  rooted  and  grounded  in  Christ  that  it  is 
best  described  as  trust  in  Christ.  Our  trust  is  in  him.  But 
I  am  never  told  that  I  am  to  trust  in  the  righteousness  of 
Christ,  in  any  sense  which  excludes  the  idea  of  my  being 
required  to  have  a  righteousness  of  my  own.  Zmust  be 
righteous,  as  St.  John  tells  me,  "  even  as  He  is  righteous." 
And  the  consciousness  of  that  righteousness  must  take  its 
place,  beside  my  trust  in  God,  as  a  true  and  necessary 
ground  of  confidence  ;  the  consciousness  that  here,  amid 
whatever  frailty  and  imjierfection,  I  have  yet  honestly 
striven  after  a  righteousness  that  was  Divine. 

The  life  of  the  future,  brethren,  is  but  the  full  develop- 
ment of  the  life  of  the  present.  It  is  not  a  new  life  sud- 
denly discovered.  It  is  an  old  life  renewed  under  different 
conditions,  but  with  the  unbroken  thread  of  one  identity 
binding  it  to  that  which  has  gone  before.  Whatever  else 
it  may  be,  it  must  be  this,  if  the  hope  of  it  is  to  shine  for 
us  with  any  brightness  at  all.  And  if  so,  then  that  which 
is  to  mark  our  character  there  must  have,  at  least,  begun  to 
mark  it  here.  If  there  my  life  is  to  be  bound  up  in  near 
unity  with  Christ's,  the  root  of  that  unity  must  be  planted 
now.  If  I  am  to  find  myself  in  his  presence  when  I  go 
hence,  I  must  carry  with  me,  as  I  pass  into  the  silent  worlds, 
something  which  will  not  fail  me  because  of  the  greatness, 
and,  for  aught  I  know,  the  terribleness  of  the  way  ;  some- 
thing Avhich,  when  I  stand  before  the  throne,  "  the  Lord, 
the  righteous  Judge,"  shall  recognize  as  having  affiance 
with  himself,  as  having  in  it  ever  so  feeble  a  breath  of  the 


STORY.]  CHRISTIAN  EIGIITEOUSNESS.  343 

spirit  of  his  own  eternal  life,  of  that  life  which  is  not  of 
the  world  but  of  God,  whose  fountain  is  not  from  beneath 
but  from  above.  Without  this  there  can  be  no  sound  and 
safe  trust  in  Christ.  There  may  be  no  more  growth  of 
righteousness  in  the  character  than  that  most  elementary- 
movement  of  self-reproach  and  acknowledgment  of  sin 
which  opened  the  lips  of  the  penitent  thief  upon  the  cross 
and  won  for  him  the  promise  of  Paradise,  but  there  must 
at  least  be  this,  ere  there  can  be  any  honesty  in  confidence 
toward  God.  The  confidence  of  the  unawakened  and  un- 
righteous, the  confidence  Avith  which  you  will  hear  some- 
times those  that  have  grown  old  in  worldliness  say,  when 
lying  on  their  death-beds,  that  they  look  to  Christ,  while 
they  have  never  once  tried,  or  even  desired  to  try,  to  love 
him,  and  to  live  his  life,  and  to  copy  his  example,  is  not 
faith,  but  self-deception.  The  boast  of  leaving  everything 
to  Christ,  of  rejoicing  to  know  that  you  can  do  nothing, 
and  need  do  nothing,  for  your  own  salvation  ;  that  all  your 
own  righteousness  is  as  "  filthy  rags,"  and  that  you  are 
yourself  a  worm,  and  vile  and  incapable  of  good  ;  which 
you  often  hear  (and  often  hear  from  persons  who  are  yet  in 
spirit  very  self-righteous,  and  the  reverse  of  humble  and 
meek),  is  a  boast  which  from  any  lips  is  foolish,  which  from 
some  lips  is  a  mere  falsehood — to  be  avoided  by  all  who 
Avould  truly  follow  Christ  and  be  saved  by  him  ;  by  all  who 
really  understand  that  their  own  righteousness,  their  own 
projects  and  efforts  for  good  which  have  no  reference  to 
God's  will,  and  do  not  proceed  on  an  honest  faith  in  One 
who  is  true  and  righteous,  and  who  loves  truth  and  right- 
eousness, are  of  no  worth  at  all  ;  but  that  their  own  right- 
eousness, when  it  is  "  of  faith,"  when  it  is  the  fruit  of  that 
faith  in  Christ  without  which  a  spiritual  life  must  grow 
feeble  and  decay,  is  of  real  value,  and  precious  in  the  sight 
of  God — of  God,  who  regards  what  we  are  rather  than 
what  we  do — and  who,  in  some  that  do  a  great  deal  that 


344  CHRISTIAN  RIGHTEOUSNESS.         [sermon  xxiii. 

seems  good,  may  yet  see  nothing  of  that  spirit  without 
which  it  has  no  inner  virtue  ;  who,  in  some  that  are  per- 
haps able  to  do  very  little,  who  can  but  suffer,  or  can  but 
"  stand  and  wait,"  perceives  the  savor  and  the  beauty  of 
that  "  unction  from  the  Holy  One  "  which  we  receive  of 
Christ. 
y\  We  must  be  "in  Christ,"  united  to  him  who  is  our  life, 
in  faith  and  love  ;  and  out  of  the  strength  of  that  union  we 
must  bring  forth  the  fruits  of  his  Spirit,  we  must  show  in 
ourselves,  not  a  righteousness  of  our  own,  but  that  which  is 
the  result  of  Christ's  Spirit  living  and  working  in  us,  the 
righteousness  of  faith,  of  "  the  new  creature  "  walking  not 
after  the  flesh  but  after  the  Spirit.      ^ 

Consider  for  a   moment,  ere  we  close,  brethren,  the  as- 
cending scale  by  which  we  rise  to  this. 

We  begin  from  the  lowest  type  of  human  life  which  has 
known  any  Christian  influence  at  all — the  life  which  is  either 
sunk  in  carnality,  or  in  worldliness,  which  has  no  aim  be- 
yond personal  pleasure  or  personal  profit,  without  generos- 
ity, without  the  capacity  of  self-sacrifice,  without  the  sense 
of  its  own  meanness  and  unworthiness.  That  is  the  life  of 
many,  and  goes  on  in  many,  only  deepening  in  its  worst 
features  to  the  close.  A  step  higher  you  have  the  kind  of 
life  which,  in  the  common  language  of  the  ancient  Jew,  or 
of  the  modern  Pharisee,  would  be  called  righteous — the  life 
of  respectable  deference  to  law  and  religious  opinion,  and 
of  consistent  desire  to  do  the  prescribed  duty  properly, 
whatever  the  demands  of  duty  may  be.  This,  too,  is  the 
life  of  many,  a  life  in  its  outward  aspect,  at  least,  and  often 
also  in  its  inner  character,  morally  fair  and  just.  Above  it 
stands  the  life  of  yet  higher  cast,  in  which  the  law  of  God 
is  understood  to  be  a  living  law,  searching  into  even  the 
thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart,  requiring  truth  in  the 
inward  parts,  a  life  which  sees  that  "  the  law  "  is  not  all, 
but  hears  in  it  the  voice  of  the  Lawgiver,  and  has  some  un- 


STORY.]  CIirdSTIAN  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  345 

derstanding,  more  or  less  clear,  of  his  character,  and  desires 
not  only  to  obey,  but  to  please  him  in  obeying.  This  is  a  life 
of  yet  purer  and  more  exalted  principle  and  motive  ;  but 
still  above  it  stands  that  highest  of  all,  the  life  of  faith,  the 
spiritual  life,  in  which  the  unseen  is  realized,  in  which  God's 
presence  is  acknowledged  as  the  great  reality,  and  his  will 
as  the  one  guide,  and  his  friendship  as  the  highest  blessing  ; 
in  which  the  commandaicnt  is  kept  out  of  love,  and  the  law 
is  observed  because  the  child  recognizes  in  it  the  voice  of 
the  Father.  This  life  of  divine  communion,  of  exalted  fel- 
lowship with  God,  of  "  righteousness  by  faith,"  is  the  high- 
est and  the  best.  It  is  that  to  which  we  are  called  in 
Christ. 

Have  we  in  any  wise  attained  to  it  ?  Arc  some  of  us 
still  mere  servants  in  the  house — not  children  ?  servants  to 
whom  obedience  is  difficult  and  work  hard  ?  Are  some  not 
even  at  this  stage,  but  still  sunk  in  selfish  indulgence,  or  in 
utter  worldliness  of  spirit  and  of  aim  ?  If  so,  let  us  remem- 
ber that  for  all  "  the  time  is  short,"  and  we  have  far  to  go, 
ere  we  can  attain  to  the  measure  of  the  perfect  man  in 
Christ.  Let  us  not  stay  so  far  away  from  him  that  we  shall 
never  be  able  to  reach  him  at  all  ;  whom  to  know  is  eternal 
life,  whom  to  serve  is  perfect  freedom  :  and  to  whom  be  all 
glory  in  the  Church,  world  without  end  !     Amen. 


THE    END. 


The  Bible  Readers'  Commentary. 

. — - — ,^4_»._ 

THE  J{EW  TESTAMEjYT,  in  Two  Volumes.  Vol.  I, 
Tlie  Fourfold  Gospel.  Vol.  II,  The  Acts,  the  Epis- 
tles, and  the  Revelation. 

"With  the  Text  arranged  in  Sections. 

Brief  Readings  and  Complete  Annotations,  selected  from  "  The  Choice 

AND  Best  Observations"  op  more  than  Four  Uundrf.d  Eminent 

CuBisTiAN  Thinkers  op  the  Past  and  Present. 

With  108  Illustrations,  Maps,  and  Diagrams. 

•Prepared  by  J.  GLENTWORTH  BUTLER,  D.  D. 


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"I  am  thankful  for  an  opportunity  to  recommend  this  remarkable  work  by 
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or  laity,  man  or  woman,  persons  of  much  or  little  reading.  It  is  difficult  to  think 
of  any  class  of  minds  too  high  or  too  low  to  be  quickened  and  instructed  by  it. 

'The  plan  is  oriL'inal  and  pecaliar.  It  is  as  if  the  Editor  had  said  of  every 
passage  or  text  in  the  whole  New  Testament,  not '  What  shall  I  say  about  it  f  ' 
but  '  What  are  the  best,  deepest,  brightest,  richest  thoughts  that  have  been  ex- 
cogitated and  written  down  respectfng  it,  or  suggested  by  it,  within  the  range 
of  four  hundred  and  thirty  of  the  ablest  scholars  and  divines,  speaking  English 
or  translated  into  English,  living  or  dead,  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean?  ' 
and  had  gathered  these  thoughts  in  a  natural  and  logical  order  on  the  pages  of 
his  book.  This  in  fact  is  what  he  has  done.  It  is  done  with  vast  pains  and 
patience,  with  great  care  and  discrimination  in  the  selection,  with  excellent  taste, 
with  a  fine  appreciation  of  whatever  is  true  or  striking  in  idea,  and  strong  or 
beautiful  in  style." 

From  NO  An  PORTER,  J).  I).,  President  of  Yale  College. 
"I  find  the  plan  to  be  unlike  that  of  any  other  with  which  I  am  acquainted, 
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CHRIST  IN  MODERN  LIFE. 


SERMONS  PREACHED  IN  ST.  JAMES  CHAPEL,  LONDON. 

By  Rev.  STOPFORD  A.  BROOKE,  M.  A., 
Honorary  Chaplain-in-Ordinary  to  the  Queen. 

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collective  humanity,  in  a  way  most  true,  and  admirable,  and  impressive.  He  pre- 
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utmost  advancement  which  it  has  reached,  and  draws,  clearly  and  convincingly,  the 
boundary-line  between  scientific  research  and  religious  faith  and  thought,  along  which 
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